


Atmospheric Electricity

by adiduck (book_people)



Series: Heterodyne!Sorin FanFanFic [6]
Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Alcohol, Amo For Asshole President, And Also Have To Share A Tag Because They Are Heterosexual Life Partners, And Cheating, Andrej Doesn't Understand Tea Prices, Blazh Is A Jerk, Bosko Has A Weird Sense of Humor, Chestibor Should Not Be On Night Duty, Dario And Milosh Are Dependable, Gen, I'm sorry Sorin, Lyubo Likes Rhubarb, M/M, Nikias Is Only Here Because Sorin's Poppa Is Sneaky, Premisl is Bad At Feelings, Rada Doesn't Care About Your Feelings, Snappy Is A Guard Too!, Sorin's Guard Consists Entirely Of Jerks, Stani Is A Delight, Tahir Has Not Found Religion, Veli Is The Captain, Yaro Has Good Taste in Weaponry, Zbignev Is The Ashen Three-Wheeled Device, implied gore, jaegermonsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4676600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_people/pseuds/adiduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are five years between the first attempts on Sorin Heterodyne's life and the year Agatha Heterodyne is discovered. Sorin's Honor Guard is obviously there for all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blazh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Askerian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Nuée Ardente](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067129) by [Asuka Kureru (Askerian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/pseuds/Asuka%20Kureru). 



> This is going to be a series of vignettes from the point of view of each of the members of Sorin's Honor Guard, spanning the five years between Shock Hazard and the start of canon. They are going to be in no particular order, and as there are sixteen jaegers on the Guard there are going to be sixteen "chapters" to this. Some of them are probably going to be pretty short, and some (like this first chapter) are going to be... reasonably sized for a short oneshot. I'll update as inspiration strikes! :) This chapter takes place about three years before canon begins.
> 
> This is part of my fanfanfic series based on Askerian's jaeger x townie otp series, in which her OC Sorin Petrescu is in fact descended from the Heterodyne line. Thank you so much to Asuka for letting me play in her sandbox and betaing for me!
> 
> Also, I'm putting this as gen AND M/M because there's the usual UST, but for the most part Veli and Sorin's relationship doesn't factor into the relationship between Sorin and these POV characters. Fair warning!

“Who’s that,” Master Sorin asked, interrupting Blazh midway through an (absolutely true and in no way calculated to make Master Sorin snort beer out his nose) observation about the pointy-looking man with the big feet in the corner. Blazh followed Master Sorin’s gaze to the door, giving the guy coming through a quick glance.

Then he gave him a much more thorough look, because it was Berthold.

“Dot’s Berthold,” he said, watching the other jaeger pull his hat down a bit further to shield his eyes. It pushed his furry, pointy ears down so they were sticking out at a ninety degree angle from his head and very nearly obscured his long muzzle from view, so the casual tromp to the bar probably didn’t gather all that much more attention than any other unidentified construct would.

Master Sorin was frowning after him, taking in the tension on Berthold’s neck and shoulders, the way his hands were only just in his pockets. Blazh internally sighed.

“He iz vun ov der vild vuns, Master,” he said, hoping Master Sorin would pick up on the subtle ‘leave it alone’.  He did—his eyes snapped to Blazh, sharp and startled, and then skittered back to Berthold ordering a drink at the bar.

“Huh,” Blazh’s Heterodyne said, rolling the word around his mouth like good booze. “He’s alone.” Blazh cringed.

The wild jaegers were a bit of a touchy subject. Initially, when they went out, they weren’t supposed to have any obvious contact with the main army at all—if the jaegermonsters were going to be working with Klaus, they couldn’t be seen offering aid to the jaegers who had declined the offer, or the illusion that those jaegers were operating on their own would be shattered.

It was different now, of course. Heterodynes had been found! The wild jaegers had been freed to abandon their mission and come home, and many of them had. Tahir, the newer of the two runners on the Guard had, even.

Not all of them had, and this time on orders from the Heterodyne Regent herself. Mistress Tereza had sent out another wave, for what Blazh understood were political and traditional reasons. At least, that’s what Nikias said, and Nikias had spent a lot of time doing guard rotations for Mistress Tereza and her Consort before volunteering for Master Sorin’s Guard, so if anyone knew it’d be him.

He said, when pressed, that Mistress Tereza was very aware that Master William and Master Barry were probably dead. They should still be found and brought home. Traditionally, it had been jaegers tasked with the honor of that duty, so Mistress Tereza reasoned that it should be jaegers who did it now. This task was technically a tracking mission, and regardless the detached jaegers were to return home after a decade and let other jaegers go out, but while they were out the… circumstances were to remain more or less the same, to allow them to do their jobs.

Also, Nikias said when drunk enough, Mistress Tereza and her consort liked the idea of boots on the ground, scattered over all of Europa if there was a sudden need for jaegers to be poking their noses in places the Baron didn’t know about, but that was neither here nor there.

Blazh had considered trying to ply Tahir with booze, too, but the guy locked up so tight about his time while detached that Blazh suspected he shat diamonds for a while after the topic came up. Blazh figured it was better to leave that one alone.

Master Sorin knew all that, of course. He’d been there when Nikias started spilling his guts, and he paid attention when people spoke. When they didn’t speak, too, like with Tahir; it was one of his strong points. Unfortunately, the set to his jaw and the way he tilted his head, every inch a Heterodyne ready to bite the next person who disagreed with him—likely with something very large and very electric and probably pretty painful—said he had decided that he didn’t care.

“Let’s invite him over here for drinks,” Master Sorin said, and stood up and started walking before Blazh could do more that open his mouth to list all the reasons why that was a terrible idea. Blazh took half a second to be somewhere between despairing and amused, and then picked up their drinks and followed.

“Oh, you should hold the table!”

“Master.”

“Oh, fine.”

The tavern was packed; they were maybe two or three days’ ride from Balan’s Gap here, just a month or so after the Spring thaw, so of course half of Europa suddenly all wanted to use it at once. Meant towns like this one were in their busy season, catering to merchants and tourists and travelers who’d been camping for the winter and waiting for a chance to get through. Master Sorin, 5’6” solid wall cloaked in subconscious Spark that he was, parted them like a sea and didn’t even notice, as he made his way carefully around the big room and over to his quarry. Berthold had found a stool with his back to the wall, was eying everyone around him with an expression that was just slightly hunted as he wolfed down what looked like the pot roast.

His eyes caught on Master Sorin pretty quickly, and he stiffened all the way up like a live wire immediately after—which made perfect sense, because an unidentified man was pretty obviously making his way over to him, and he looked like he was already pretty on edge. Great. Blazh hung back a little, prepared to step in on the off chance Berthold didn’t let Master Sorin talk before he went off. Wouldn’t _that_ be a disaster. Blazh was really not the Guard member you wanted to go to if you were suddenly dealing with a distraught jaeger who’d accidentally mauled the Heterodyne heir, either; that was really more Zbignev’s area...

“Hey, mind if we join you?” Master Sorin asked, and sat down in the bar stool next to Berthold (careful not to completely cut off his escape route, heh) without waiting for a response. “My friend and I saw you come in, we thought we’d come over and say hello! I think we lost our table now, though, this place is crazy. I’m Sorin, by the way.”

Berthold looked somewhere between confused and incredulous.

Pff. Okay, that was his cue. “Berthold!” he said, walked into the space between his master and his brother and clapped the other jaeger on the shoulder (subtly pushed him back onto the stool when he startled). “Long time no see! Hy vos telling m’lord over dere completely true tings about de pipple in der tavern, hyu should help.”

Berthold wasn’t the smartest jaeger Blazh had ever met, but he certainly wasn’t slow either, and everyone in the army knew why the name “Sorin” was significant these days. Blazh watched with some satisfaction as Berthold connected the name with Blazh’s completely-joking ‘m’lord’ and his jaw dropped open in shock, and let go of Berthold’s shoulder.

“Lies,” Sorin said, kindly filling the silence while Berthold caught up to the rest of them. “I am pretty sure Blazh has never uttered a true statement about anyone in his life.”

“Hy’ll be damned,” Berthold muttered, eyes still glued to Master Sorin’s face. Master Sorin blinked, then made the lemon face, all puckered lips and mildly squinty, unsure eyes. He glanced at Blazh. Blazh rolled his eyes at him, and then obligingly picked up his slack.

“Clearly hyu have been avay too long, brodder,” he said, clapping Berthold on the shoulder again (Berthold jumped, shook his head like he was shaking off water). “Dot is vun hundert percent correct. Bot ennyvay, ve kom all de vay over here und give op de table in de corner to say hello, und hyu dun even offer to buy os drinks!”

Berthold stared at him for another second or two, and then sighed, forced his shoulders relaxed all at once like he was about to try to melt onto the floor (his eyes were still too wide, flickered back to Master Sorin too much to really be believable, but it was a step in the right direction at least). “…Hy haff been able to say eksactly vun ting since hyu get here, Blazh,” Berthold pointed out, drawling it like he was maybe a little bored.

“You think that’s bad,” Master Sorin said, grinning. “We have Lyubo, too.”

Berthold snorted, grinned back a little even as he drank Master Sorin in with his eyes. “So basically novun ever schleeps et all, den?”

“Well, I usually get a separate room,” Master Sorin explained, and grinned wider when Berthold snorted again. “Blazh, sit down before someone steals the last bar stool, please. Let’s not have a repeat of last time.”

“Awwww,” Blazh said, grinning like a fiend. “Bot dot guy had it comink, und hy only broke him a _leedle_ bit—“

“You threw him into the liquor rack,” Master Sorin said. “Because he sat down in a seat you weren’t sitting in.”

“Fon,” Berthold opined, eyes flicking to a woman who walked past them and then back again, quickly, his shoulders tensing just a little until she moved away and hand moving subconsciously to the axe at his belt.

“I’m not surprised _you_ think so,” Master Sorin griped, even as his eyes caught on Berthold’s tense body language and a little frown line showed up between his eyebrows (well, Blazh had at least done a pretty good job teaching Master Sorin to _recognize_ that stuff, even if he was _so bad_ at it himself…). “Here, let me buy you a drink. Blazh, stop hovering and sit down, I’m seriou—does that axe retract?”

Berthold blinked, looked down at his weapon. “Ah, yaz? Vell, iz a leedle jammed chust now—“

“Here,” Master Sorin said, and held out his hand, other already rummaging in his tool pouch for something. “Let me see, I’ll fix it. Blazh, sit _down_.”

“Pff,” Blazh said, and moved around Master Sorin to plop into the bar stool on his other side (sideways, so he could see people walking up to Master Sorin from all possible angles, and most of the tavern, too. Not as good as getting Master Sorin’s back to a wall, but Berthold was sitting there. Hmmm… maybe he could get him to give up his seat…). “Vun time hyu lighten op a place a leedle, und he never forgets. Hyu vos bored befur hy make der guy move, admit it.”

“I’m glad you think it’s boring,” Master Sorin said, slightly distractedly as he opened the axe mechanism up, “because we aren’t allowed to go back.”

 “Pff,” Blazh said again, and sniffed. “Hyu don’t really care.” He bent so he could get a look at Berthold again (he was starting to smile for real a little now, even if he was still tense. Well, Blazh sitting this way covered his blind spot too, probably that was helping as much as Master Sorin’s casual slump.) “He pretends he doesn’t tink ve iz fonny,” he explained, very seriously, “bot ektually, he does, und he likes a good brawl sometimes, too. Hyu ken tell ven he iz lying about dot becawz hiz eyes crinkle at de corners und hiz mouth gets verra straight so he von’t smile by accident—“

“Blazh!”

Blazh grinned at Master Sorin, unrepentant.

“Iz de trooth!”

Master Sorin sighed, started to color high in his cheeks and very pointedly not looking up from the axe. “Okay, yes, I’m a terrible liar.”

“Iz goot hyu admit it,” Blazh said consolingly, and patted his shoulder.

“Oh, go stick your head in a lava engine,” Master Sorin griped. “Oh, wow, what in the world did you _do_ to this? You’ve stripped four of the gears completely. Did you use it as an ice pick or something?”

“…Ah, yaz, ektually—“

“Oh lord—“

“Hy hope hyu veren’t attached to dot de vay it iz,” Blazh said casually, grinning. Berthold looked up from where he was staring with a slightly concerned expression at Master Sorin was pulling gears out.

“Not gettink it beck?”

“Of course you’re going to get it back,” Master Sorin said, just before shoving a gear into his mouth while he pulled out a pair of pliers. “Ifs your weafon, you need’t out here alone.”

Berthold blinked, and then snorted, gave Master Sorin’s bowed head a slightly incredulous grin. “Vell, _dot_ iz goot to hear!”

Blazh snickered. Sorin snorted at them, looked up long enough to roll his eyes and spit out the gear. “So you were going to tell me about the ice pick incident,” he said, beginning to refasten the gear to the mechanism with—something he’d pulled out of his pouch. Blazh decided not to question it.

“Lie about sum ov it und don’t tell heem vat,” he advised, before Berthold could start talking.

“Hey!”

“Vhy vould hy do dot?” Berthold asked, looking genuinely surprised.

“Iz vat ve vos doing befur hyu show op,” Blazh explained. “Hy iz teachink heem how to notice lies, und how to lie better. De first iz going better dan de second, mind—”

“Oh come on,” Master Sorin whined, looking back up again to glare at Blazh. “Not everyone has to play the lie game, Blazh.”

“Und mebbe iz better if he gets de report schtraight ennyvay?” Berthold added, raising an eyebrow. Master Sorin froze, head snapping around to glare at Berthold sternly. Berthold stiffened up again in surprise.

“No, I’m not asking for a report,” Master Sorin said. “This isn’t about business at all! You want to give a report, you send it to my mother. I just want to know the story!”

Berthold stared at him, shot Blazh another look. Blazh shrugged, yeah, he does this. Berthold blinked again, turned back to Master Sorin to stare at him some. Master Sorin stared back, jaw set on stubborn and eyes glaring a challenge to contradict him again.

Berthold, of course, didn’t. “Hokay, hy _guess_ ,” he said, and even without visibly shrugging the decision to just humor the Heterodyne was audible in his voice. Blazh let himself smile under the brim of his hat. “So hy vos op on de Polar Lord Plateau—“

Master Sorin sighed dramatically, turned back to the axe with a slump. “Oh, come on, if you’re going to lie at least make it _believable_. That’s clear on the other side of Europa, there’s no way you’d have gotten here in time post-thaw. Oh, by the way, are you going to be around for a while? Because I figured out how to make metal actually sing—well, hum at different frequencies in an approximation of singing in a way that won’t damage the integrity of the metal—and it would be interesting to try it on a mechanism that allows the blade to retract.”

“Hy— _singing_? Ven vould it sing?”

“Uh, well, hopefully only when appropriate, but there may be a training period…”

Blazh laughed, and signaled the waitress. Clearly, they were going to need more booze for this.


	2. Premisl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place about two years after Shock Hazard, so three years before the start of canon.

The last member of the Guild of the Witness to Devastation was, perhaps surprisingly, not the Witness himself; that guy was actually pretty easy to find, in the end, and Master Sorin got rid of him more or less summarily. The last guy was the guy who'd convinced the Witness he was some sort of messenger of a god or something weird like that, and he was a hell of a lot harder to kill.

Mostly, Premisl supposed, because he was smarter than the other guys, and actually _did some research on his target_. Premisl figured that was why, once they tracked him down and were chasing him through the streets of Neueplatz, the guy turned around and sent a modified farming fork straight through Veli’s torso and into the wall behind with enough force to pin him to the wall.

“Veli!” Master Sorin shouted, eyes wide, and started struggling to get Premisl to put him down—Veli had chucked him at Premisl when he saw the farm tool coming at him.

“Huh,” Veli said, sounding pretty impressed—Premisl was pretty impressed too, actually, the guy had just picked it up out of a garden and thrown it hard as he could, it wasn’t even a Sparky fork—as their prey took off down an alley. He gave an experimental tug on the tool. It stuck fast to the stone behind him, and he growled his annoyance. “Damn, no leverage—Premisl, take him und go!”

“No!” Master Sorin said.

“Yaz, _sir_ ,” Premisl shouted cheerfully, and swung Master Sorin around onto his back in a way that’d make Master Sorin grab hold on instinct, taking off after their quarry again.

“Dun vorry, Master, he didn’t effen hit ennyting important, Chestibor vill get him off vhen he ketches op,” Premisl assured, vaulting over a low wall and running straight past a startled old lady out on her porch. “Sorry, comink through!” Where was their guy—there.

“He hit his kidney at that angle!” Master Sorin shouted, even as he caught sight of their prey a minute after Premisl did and took aim with the bellows gun thing he’d whipped up after the guy broke into his forge, failed to kill him, and took off again.

“Meh, he’s gots anodder vun, und it vill be all better in en hour vunce he gets unskewered,” Premisl said, diving into an open door and through the house, ignoring the screams of surprise and shock while he did. A blast went off behind them—ack, shotgun. Drat. Premisl threw one arm back to hold his master in place and swung up onto a window sill, shooting through the glass boots first.

“ _Premisl_!”

“Vat, iz chust some glass, Veli dose dot all de time!”

“I’m not mad at you about the glass,” Master Sorin howled. “Either turn around or put me down!”

“Look, dis guy chust trew a fork fester dan a jaeger ken dodge, Master, hy iz _not_ putting hyu down,” Premisl said—perfectly reasonably, he felt—as he scanned the street they were currently dashing down. “Und he only did it becawz he knew hyu’d schtop chasing him for os!” Awgh, they’d come out on the wrong cross street! Okay, how to cut the distance—

“He was right!”

“Vhich iz vhy,” Premisl said cheerfully, “Veli told _me_ to run und not hyu. Hold on, hy iz gonna take a short cut!”

“Short— _agh_!”

Master Sorin’s arms tightened around Premisl’s shoulders as he flipped himself up a signpost and threw himself onto the roof above, tucking and rolling—and shielding Master Sorin’s head, he wasn’t _stupid_ —before gaining his feet and shooting at the new power cords that had—slowly—begun springing up in richer areas of richer towns throughout Europa.

“ _Those aren’t going to hold our weight_!”

“Only need to until ve get to der odder side!” Premisl crowed, and stole the bellows right out of Master Sorin’s hand, slung it over the cord and used his momentum to _shoot_ them across the space between. There was a _wrench_ and a _snap_ , and the cord was suddenly loose—they were sliding down a slackening cord and the ground was coming up and the wall was coming up—Premisl unhooked and crashed through a closed window feet-first, whooping again, and shot across the room, shouldering out a side-door onto a veranda that opened onto the street their assassin was on. He shot their quarry into a house to the side, leapt down from the veranda and tackled the guy to a far wall before he could gain his feet.

“Hallo, sveetie,” he crooned into the bastard’s face, and snapped the arm that tried to swing at him from the side. The man howled.

“I hate you,” Master Sorin gritted out between his teeth, and slid down Premisl’s back, yanking his bellows back pointedly. Premisl grinned. “Right, so. You. What’s your name?”

* * *

The interrogation—well, confirmation that the guy was the last one; that didn’t really take long enough to be an “interrogation”—and finishing off the assassin was over pretty quick, after that. Premisl held the guy still while Master Sorin got what he wanted from him, and then Master Sorin let Premisl snap the guy’s neck and drop him in a heap on the ground. Premisl stretched and wandered around the room while Master Sorin checked the body over again, keeping up a running commentary on the chase and the room they were in. “Hy tink hy ken avoid de houses on de vay beck dot ve vent through,” he mused, checking the street outside the door. “Sos ve dun haff to pay for damages. Or do hyu vant to pay dose again, Master, hy dunno vhen iz hokay to leave it und vhen iz not, hyu keep changing it.”

“Hm,” Master Sorin said.

Premisl paused, turned to look behind him. Master Sorin was still knelt over the body, looking at it with a—well, not a thoughtful look, or a Sparky look, it was… Premisl couldn’t really place it. It wasn’t good, was about as far as Premisl got. Uh oh…

“…Iz… hyu hokay, Master?” he tried.

“Hm?” Master Sorin said, and turned to look. “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine.” He stood up again, still looking at the body, and then bent to pick up his bellows. “I was just thinking.”

Premisl cringed. This really wasn’t his area of expertise. He was more of a jaeger of action, he’d never really had any idea what to do when Master Sorin got into a _mood_. “Iz about Veli?” he guessed. “Chestibor vas only a leedle behind os, Master, he’s got to haff schtopped laughing und let Veli down by now—“

“I know that,” Master Sorin said, dismissive. “I’m not—well, I _am_ worried about that, but I’m not going to lecture either of you about it, stop cringing.”

“Hy iz not cringing,” Premisl whined. “Hy dun ‘cringe’—“

Master Sorin gave a ghost of a smile, but still didn’t look up from the corpse. “If you say so,” he said. “No, I was just—“ He sighed. “You know,” he said, finally looking up. “At nineteen, I’d have been horrified to have a death count, let alone a successful manhunt under my belt. That’s…” He looked back at the corpse again, that weird look back on his face. “I don’t know how to feel about that,” he finished, finally.

…Right. “Do hyu vant me to go und get vun ov de more sensitive jaegers, Master?” Premisl asked, hopefully. “Hy ken go right now, hy bet hy could find Zbignev, de odders haff to haff heard vhat vos going on by now—“

Master Sorin snorted, looked away from the corpse again, but the look was gone. In its place was the fond ‘what am I going to do with you’ look he sent at Premisl every time Premisl didn’t listen to him because Master Sorin was being dumb—sort of exasperated, but not really mad, and kind of long-sufferingly amused. It had a special percentage of exasperated when he gave the look to Premisl. “You’re fine,” he said. “Was just a weird thought.

“Anyway, help me clean this guy up,” he said, and started bending down to pick the corpse up again. Premisl, suddenly very relieved, took two quick strides over to help. “I figure we’ll just burn him—nobody around here’s bound to miss him, so that shouldn’t be a problem. And then I want to go check on Veli.”

“He’s got to be free by _now_ though,” Premisl pointed out. “He’s got to be following de mayhem to here already, he’ll get snitty iffen ve move.”

Sorin rolled his eyes. “And _then_ ,” he said, as though Premisl hadn’t spoken—hey!—“I would really like to go and get drunk.”

…Oh, well, Veli would probably live if they missed him. It wasn’t like Master Sorin was _hurt_ or anything—“Hyu gots it, boss,” he said cheerfully, and swung the corpse out of Master Sorin’s hands and over his shoulder. “Let’s go und burn him in de schtreet! Dere izn’t ennyvun around, und iz all dirt, so notting else vill ketch fire!”

“That’s a terrible idea, what if someone _comes by_ or _sees the smoke_?”

“Vell, probably dey already know ve vos chasink somevun, und vill giff hyu a chance to be guilty et dem und giff dem money!”

“Premisl—“

“Hey, ve ken use de bellows und chust ‘splode him!”

“That is a terr—I—huh. Well, he’d be unrecognizable, I guess, but—“

“Great!”

“Premisl _no_!”

Premisl grinned, and dumped the corpse in the street, shoving the bellows he’d stolen back into its mouth. This would be _cool_.


	3. Andrej

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could really take place any time during the five year period. ^^; Just a random night when Andrej was on duty. Also, please excuse me if I got something about the chemistry or care of silver wrong, it is unfortunately not an area of which I have great knowledge. I'm going off what I know of caring for my own few silver belongings.

“Why is it as social status thing to have untarnished silver?” Master Sorin asked completely out of the blue one night. Andrej blinked.

“Huh,” he said, and thought about it. “Hy guess it looks nicer?”

“Yes, but tarnish is inevitable with silver,” Master Sorin said. “It’s just a chemical reaction that takes place when you expose it to air. In fact, if you have _tarnished_ silver, it shows both that you’ve had it for a while and that you have so much silver that you can regularly expose it to air in order to use it. Why isn’t having a large amount of _tarnished_ silver the status symbol?”

“Mebbe becawz you haff to ektually buy der polish, und schpend time polishing it,” Andrej proposed. “So hyu haff der money to haff der silver, _und_ hyu haff der money to pay somevun to polish der silver, _und_ provide der polish?” The floorboard down the inn hallway creaked—ah, that damn cat again.

“Hm. I guess that makes sense,” Master Sorin said dubiously, and Andrej refocused on the conversation at hand. “Although I still think that _age_ should improve the esteem of the silver. I mean, having had money longer than someone is supposed to be another way to measure social esteem, right?”

“Vell, jah, but dot iz measured in odder vays. Und ennyvay hyu can chust lie about how long hyu family haz had der silver.”

“That seems really inefficient.”

“Mm, jah,” Andrej agreed, following a shadow out the window with his eyes until he identified one of the bats living in this inn’s attic. “Hy mean, silver iz silver, jah? Hyu melt it down, und den iz der same no matter how old it iz.”

“Well, no,” Master Sorin said. “I understand the aesthetic thing. It takes skill to make all those little finicky designs, even if that’s all that you do over and over.”

“Hy guess,” Andrej said. “Hy dunno, hy didn’t usually go for der silvervare vhen raidink.”

“Hm.” Master Sorin sighed, and then shifted behind the door again and stilled. Andrej counted the minutes. Two… three… four… “Maybe I could make a silver that doesn’t tarnish.”

“Vouldn’t dot make it not-silver?” Andrej asked. “Becawz hyu vould haff to add odder tings.”

“Hmmmmmmmm… no, I think I could maybe treat it? In order to counter the reaction.”

“Huh,” Andrej said.

“It’s an interesting question, because silver is an element as opposed to a compound, but you don’t usually use _pure_ silver to build anyway,” Master Sorin explained. “So… it could… hm!”

Andrej settled against the door and tuned Master Sorin out, did another quick scan of the hallway and window. Master Sorin would babble about untarnishing silver for a while yet, no need for Andrej to get involved until he tried to get up and do it _right now_. With luck, this would be one of the nights he talked himself to sleep instead.

Really, Andrej should never have tried to answer that question about sea sponges. He was pretty sure nobody _else_ had to listen to Master Sorin’s weird thought processes while half asleep.

Andrej pretended he wasn’t smiling, and let Master Sorin chatter on.

An hour later, he tripped Master Sorin back into bed and distracted him from his project with a question about why people were willing to spend so much money on tea. Seriously, it wasn’t like they couldn’t _grow the leaves themselves_ …


	4. Radovana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So, I was going to write Amator, and I wrote Radovana instead. WELP.

Master Sorin’s new boyfriend was, on a whole, around a lot more than the others had been. Probably because he traveled too, Rada figured, so it was easier to coordinate being in the same place at the same time. This one was a stone mason, too, so they had more things to talk about than Master Sorin had had with the last one, who had been… some sort of grocer? Possibly? Hrm, no, that may have been the one before that, Rada wasn’t sure.

Anyway, so this one was around at least every few weeks, which was different. And he was very nice and polite and seemed to get along with Master Sorin pretty well, which was why when the shouting started Rada was pretty damn surprised. She blinked at the door, absently unsticking the cigar she’d been chewing from one long tooth and rolling it to the other side of her mouth.

Well, it was good to know this Andros boy _could_ raise his voice. She’d been wondering how he made himself heard across a work site, to be frank.

“I can’t _believe_ you’re going to pretend you don’t understand the problem,” he was bellowing now, voice getting closer and further away slightly as he stomped around the inn room—probably getting dressed.

“I _don’t_! You _knew_ I had a Guard, you _knew_ they were going to be around _all the time_ —“

“I didn’t _realize_ I would be _dating them, too_ ,” Andros shouted, and slammed the inn room door open, eyes alighting on Rada almost immediately. Which was fair, Rada was pretty eye-catching, what with how low the light was in this hallway and the phosphorescing thing. Rada slowly pulled the cigar out of her mouth and waved it at him, eyebrow raised.

“If hyu iz datink me, kiddo, hy tink hyu haff been preddy lax in hyu boyfriend duties,” she drawled.

“ _Argh_ ,” the boy said, very succinctly—Rada appreciated a man who could get to the point, most of the slackers she commanded were way too damn verbose—and stormed off down the hall, stomping his way down the stairs and into the noise that was the busy tavern area under the rooms.

Huh. Rada put the cigar back into her mouth. Well, that had been interesting. Now she was kind of glad she’d lost that poker game and got stuck with night duty!

“Can you _believe_ this?” Master Sorin snapped through the door. Oh, not over after all, then.

“Dot he iz not datink me?” Rada asked, not bothering to remove the cigar this time—Master Sorin had been around her long enough she was pretty confident he’d understand her, and if he didn’t then he damn well better learn.

“That he— _argh_ , no! He—were you listening?”

“Not until der shoutink,” Rada said, settling more comfortably against the wall and eying the wall lamp that was just a little above her head level. Hmmm, the inn keeper had made a pretty big stink about them not smoking in the rooms, but did the hallway count? Also, did she care?

“He was annoyed because he thinks I _talk to you guys_ too much when he’s around,” Master Sorin scoffed. “He said he’s only ever got my full attention when we have sex!”

“Talk to os too moch, like hyu iz doink now, hyu mean?” …Nope, didn’t care. Rada pulled the cigar out of her mouth and tilted it until the end lit.

“…What?”

“He left in a hoff und hyu iz schtill in bed und complaink about it to me immediately after,” Rada elaborated. There. She pulled the cigar out and gave a contented puff. Mmmmm, nicotine…

“Whose side are you on?” Master Sorin snapped.

“Hyurs, ov cawze,” Rada said, “bot he’s schtill gots a point, iz all hy iz sayink.”

“He… I talk to you too much when he’s around?”

“Hyu tolk to os all der time, vhether he iz around or not,” Rada corrected. “Iz not different vhen he iz here or not. Hyu dun pay more attention to him den to whoeffer iz in der hallvay or outside der vindow, jah? Iz probably preddy annoyink.”

“I… that’s not _true_ , though,” Master Sorin insisted. “I _do_ spend time with him alone when he’s here!”

“Vhen hyu iz haffing der sex, jah, or iz verra obvious iz a copple conversashon. Bot if iz chust like dis, vit hyu two in der room by hyuselves, hyu tolk to efferyvun. Like ve iz all in a big friend group ting inschtead of hyu two on a date.” Rada shrugged, even though Master Sorin couldn’t see, and then took another long drag of her cigar.

“Sergeant Radovana, put that cigar out, we were asked not to smoke up here,” Master Sorin said, probably on automatic. Rada snorted and did no such thing. “I… do you guys not… want to talk to him or something?”

“Eh,” Rada said. “Ve dun really care, Master. Like hy said, iz not so different iffen he iz here or not. Hyu dun really treat der time enny different either vay.”

“I…” Master Sorin fell silent, sounding kind of surprised. Maybe a little hurt.

He still hadn’t gotten out of the bed. Rada rolled her eyes.

“Hyu tell him he iz hyu boyfriend,” she said, “und den hyu treat him like he iz chust anodder person in hyu group dot hyu ken haff sex vit. Dot iz hokay, hyu iz allowed to chust haff friends hyu fuck, Master, bot hyu probably need to make op hyu mind vhich vun he iz, yaz?”

“You’re saying I’m a _shitty boyfriend_?”

“Hmph.” Now he sounded angry. Rada unstuck the cigar again and rolled it to the other side of her mouth. “Vell, yaz, iffen hyu vant him to schtick around hyu iz not doink a good job vit it. Hyu iz giffing de impreshon dot ve matter to hyu more den he dose.”

“You _do_!”

Bingo. Rada puffed on her cigar for a few more seconds, and let that sink in. “So vhy iz hyu giffing him de impreshon dot dis might haff _feelings_ involved, den,” she asked. “Dot’s not de vay to keep him, iffen hyu vant to.”

“I…” Master Sorin sighed. “I _do_ like him,” he insisted. “He’s a good guy, and he’s smart so we can… talk about things, and he’s really—well, very attractive, and he doesn’t care that I travel all the time or that I’m a Spark or a Heterodyne or that I’m never going to be a _normal boyfriend_ —“

“Mm,” Rada said. “Vell, hyu dun _dislike_ him, ennyvay.” She considered conceding that Master Sorin _was_ at least trying, in his own way, but… nah. Thing was, none of the Guard really expected Andros to _last_ very long one way or the other. Master Sorin was sort of a one-man kind of guy, and he was already in love with someone else. Rada had put half a paycheck on six months.

“…Should I go after him?” Master Sorin asked finally.

“Hrm…” Rada considered that. “Vell, mebbe dot vould haff been goot, bot now iz goink to feel like en afterthought, hy tink. Grovel tomorrow inschtead.”

“Okay,” Master Sorin said, and fell silent again. Rada waited to see if he’d say anything more, and then shrugged when he didn’t and went back to her cigar.

“ _…Rada I said put that out_!”

“Hrmph.”

“ _Now_!”

“Oh, fine…”


	5. Lyubo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you that some of these were going to be short and silly. XD

“Hoy, Zbignev! Hy trade you Master Sorin’s afternoon shift for der evening shift tonight!”

“Eh? Vhy?”

“He iz off dis afternoon und der town next door haz a Market. Hy iz gonna get him to buy de foodz.”

“…Lyubo…”

“Vat? He eats dem, too, und also gets de shiny tings! Iz a goot arrangement all around. Und ennyvay iz goot for him, he iz getting too intense on der studying dis time.”

“No. Hy haff plans dis evening, und ve haff to clear it vit Veli, ennyvay.”

“Pff. Hyu iz chust gonna take a nap. Anyvay, Veli vill say yaz, he tinks iz fonny.”

“Master _Sorin_ iz gonna say no, he’s gots all de extra vork from der Professor right now.”

“He von’t, hy iz telling hyu.”

“He iz in der forge right now, hyu vant to make a bet ov it?”

“Hyu take der evening shift tonight und next veek, und also make me a new pair of socks iffen hy vin.”

“Fine. Hyu haff to schteal Blazh’s poker cards und schtick der jokers in hyu hat brim so he can see.”

“…Fine, becawz hy iz gonna vin.”

“Pfffffhahaha, he iz gonna keel hyu.”

“Nope—HOY, MASTER.”

“ _Ack_! Lyubo! You nearly made me—“

“Master, de next town over haz a Market right now! Hyu know, de vun vit dat Schpark  vit de vind manipulation ting dat hyu vas talking about? He iz gonna be dere to talk, bot only dis afternoon, so ve haff to leave _right now_.”

“…Professor _Valtzer_ is coming out of his _windmill_?”

“Yup, horry op, come on come on he iz gonna be dere at tree—“

“Stop pulling, I’m coming! Where’s my—I’ll be right back, meet me at the—Damn it I have to freshen up too and…”

*slam*

“…”

“…”

“…Dot vos cheatink.”

“Hee! Make dem red socks, dey match mine uniform better dot vay! Gots to go, dey gots _rhubarb_ at dis ting.”


	6. Bozidar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a few days after the epilogue of Shock Hazard. 9.9

“Bosko, can you come in here for a second,” Master Sorin called from inside the lab. Bosko blinked.

“Eh?”

“Come in! I need to fit something to you really quickly.”

…Well, so much for Chestibor’s warning that Master Sorin had been ignoring everything outside the lab since he went in yesterday. Bosko shrugged, resigned himself to not catching a nap after all, and checked the hallway again—still empty, what a shock. “…Guess iz preddy unlikely somevun vill come by to keel hyu in Kestle Wulfenbach,” he mused aloud.

“…What?”

“Notting, notting,” Bosko said, and let himself into the lab, closing the door firmly behind him.”How did hyu know vos mine shift, ennyvay?”

Master Sorin was bent over a thing—tongue out and pliers in hand, heh—and didn’t even twitch as Bosko went in. “Stani, then Chestibor,” he said absently, “and it was Premisl instead of Lyubo before Stani, so it’s D-rotation, and you’re next. _There_.” He brandished the thing—huh, goggles? Yeah, he had a similar pair strapped to his own head—triumphantly, finally focusing on Bosko standing on the other side of the room. “That should do it. Here, come to the center of the lab where there’s more space.”

“…Chestibor seyz hyu iz not payink attention,” Bosko informed him, grinning. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked to the center of the room. He spread his arms—here I am—and shrugged, watched Master Sorin pick up the goggles-thing and a few tools. “Hy iz gonna tell him hyu vos chust ignoring him.”

“There’s a clock,” Master Sorin explained vaguely, and made a quick note in a book before juggling everything into his right hand and walking over. “Here, bend down so I can get to your hat.”

“Dot iz not ominous et all, hy iz verra reassured, Master.”

“And yet,” Master Sorin said, lips pinched at the corner as he fitted the goggles onto Bosko’s head, eye pieces in front so Bosko could pull them over the brim and on if necessary, “you bent right over when I told you to.”

“Vell, yaz,” Bosko said, shrugging. Master Sorin snorted.

“Stop moving. Let me know when this is tight enough to stay on.”

“Vat do hy vant it to do?”

“It needs to be tight enough to stay in place, but not so tight it’s bothering you or can’t be readjusted to cover your eyes.”

“…So,” Bosko said wryly, “…Like normal goggles, den?”

Master Sorin stopped what he was doing to glare at him. Bosko kept his face very carefully neutral as he stared back.

“No,” Master Sorin said. “These are _not_ normal goggles. _These_ are made of a compound that combines steel and glass in a proportion to give it the transparent properties of glass and the moldable properties of steel, and they also unfold at the correct stimulus to shield the wearer’s eyes and nose _on their own_.”

“…Huh,” Bosko said. “Dey dun look like dey unfold.”

“Well of course not,” Master Sorin insisted, going back to fiddling. “Tell me if they’re tight enough!”

Oh right. “Jah, fine,” Bosko assured. “Enny more und dey schtart cutting off blood to mine poor brain.”

“What a loss,” Master Sorin muttered, but he stood up and stepped away anyway, smiling with satisfaction. “Think fast.”

And then he dropped something he’d been holding to the floor and it exploded with a _bang_.

Bosko sprang backwards on instinct, hand coming up to shield his eyes, and ended up colliding painfully with the goggles as they _shot_ outward and slammed down over his eyes and nose, all on their own. He inhaled to say _ow_ and ended up inhaling a mouthful of pepper bomb, turned away to cough it out of his mouth and lungs.

“Oops,” Master Sorin said, sounding strangely muffled. “Hadn’t thought of inhaling… hrm, maybe I should add a filter over the mouth?”

Bosko turned around. Master Sorin looked back, calmly, through the transparent lenses of his own goggles, eyeing the apparatus that had just folded into place on Bosko’s face consideringly. “There’s some water on the lab bench,” he said, helpfully pointing.

“…Master,” Bosko said, and reached up to touch the facemask that had recently attached itself to his eyes and nose without his consent. “Hyu iz a little bit of a jerk.” It came out much more approvingly than he meant it. Oh well.

“If you can still see and breathe, I will take ‘a little bit of a jerk’,” Master Sorin said, far too seriously.

“Goot job makink it awkvard.”

“It’s a gift.”

Fortunately, someone started knocking tentatively on the door just then, so Bosko didn’t have to figure out what to say since he suddenly had to see who it was and whether that guy was an axe murderer or something instead.

Behind him, Master Sorin jumped and started flailing around trying to clear the pepper out of the air. “Bosko wait a minute—“

Bosko _would_ , except the flailing was going to do jack-all, so he opened the door instead.

“Master Sorin’s temporary lab,” he told the construct who was standing awkwardly in the hallway cheerfully. “Master Sorin iz currently attemptink interporehteeve dance to get rid ov pepper bomb, so he ken’t come over here. Ken hy tek a message?”

“ _Bozidar_.” Bosko ignored Master Sorin, blinking calmly at the construct as though he hadn’t heard the thumping and shouting despite the bat ears. The construct looked back incredulously (no visible weapon, not very tall, pretty standard claws—eh, Bosko could take him). “ _Oh_ —“ There was a lot of stomping, and then Master Sorin shoved his head under Bosko’s arm and gave the construct a slightly apologetic look through the mask. Considering his hair was flying everywhere and he was smudged here and there with pepper bomb residue and soot, Bosko suspected this was not reassuring. “Sorry,” Master Sorin said. “They’re not well-adapted to things like ‘talking to people in civilized society’.”

“ _Hoy_!”

“He’s right about the pepper, though,” Master Sorin continued—without acknowledging Bosko had said anything, which was very rude, in Bosko’s opinion. Who wasn’t well socialized _now_? “We were testing—oh.” Sorin reached up and pressed a button on the side of the face mask. It immediately folded back up to rest on his forehead again like it was a pair of the most innocuous goggles in the world. “We were testing eye protection for combat,” Master Sorin continued, “so the air in there isn’t great if you don’t have—“

“Herr Baron Wulfenbach respectfully requests your presence,” the construct interrupted, apparently deciding that letting Master Sorin and Bosko talk over each other was going to get them all nowhere. Master Sorin blinked.

“…Oh! Yes, right.” He started to straighten up and collided with Bosko’s arm, ducked back under and behind while sputtering. Bosko continued to keep his face as neutral as possible, arm still very firmly between the Construct they didn’t know and Master Sorin. (Master Sorin subtly kicked him in the boot, but he ignored that because he was nice.)

“Tell him we’ll head right there,” Master Sorin said, over Bosko’s arm. “Thanks for the message.”

“Bye now,” Bosko said cheerfully, and made sure the Construct had rounded the corner before turning to face Master Sorin’s annoyed face. “Oh, look,” he said, before Master Sorin could open his mouth. “Der fans cleared de room vhile ve vos talkink to dot guy!”

Master Sorin made a very convincing growl noise, and then sighed and stomped over to his table for some notes. “I give up,” he declared to nobody in particular—success! “You’re all going to have to calm down sooner or later, you know, we’re not exactly in the middle of nowhere sans allies.”

“Depends on hyu perspective,” Bosko said philosophically, leaning up against the door. “So vhat vos hyu gonna talk to der Baron about?”

“The Guild,” Master Sorin said shortly, and his eyes narrowed, shoulders squaring almost subconsciously, and suddenly he was a Heterodyne, through and through. Bosko grinned.

“Fon,” he said, stretching. “Horry op, den, ve dun vant to be late!”

Master Sorin snorted. “Press the button to close that mask, you look really silly,” he said. “Besides, it’s supposed to fold back up onto your hat so you can just leave it on, and I need to test it doesn’t hit the brim.”

“Oooooooooh…”

They got a little distracted when Bosko discovered he could flip the mask open and shut without having to have something thrown at his face, and that doing so too many times made it shift a bit and inevitably fly off his hat, but Master Sorin fashioned a new strap that let it fit comfortably over Bosko’s ears and they were back on track only half an hour after the Construct had told them to head to the Baron’s. Bosko, who also now only had to pay attention to the normal hallway traffic instead of the lunch rush traffic on the way, counted this as a success. Master Sorin did a lot of huffing and eye-rolling, of course, but one of the good things about the last few months was that he’d started letting them be paranoid for him—probably out of guilt that when he was wrong about the paranoia they ended up in _even more_ danger, but Bosko would take what he could get.

“Look on der bright side,” he said cheerfully, as he not-so-subtly herded Master Sorin to the wall side as a group of lady minions walked by—he tipped his hat as they passed, and they tittered down the hallway a bit faster than they’d been going before—“Et least hy didn’t call for back-up!” Master Sorin elbowed him in the ribs, huffing like an offended old man.

“That really _would_ have been a bit ridiculous,” he muttered. “Oh thank god, we’re here.”

“Ach!” Bosko pressed a hand over his heart and pulled his best hurt face. “Hyu dun appreciate der pleasure ov mine company? So cruel! Now hy must hide mine face from der vorld, neffer again to truly appreciate der vind in mine hair—“ He pressed the button on the goggles and continued as they unfolded, “—or der vay der son feels on mine skin—“

“Bosko, they’re clear, they only cover your eyes and nose, and if anything is blocking the wind in your hair it’s the hat you never take off. _Stop pressing the button_ or you’ll break them!”

“That,” the Baron said, looking up from his thing he was working on to give them both a wry look, “sounds remarkably like a lost cause.”

Master Sorin immediately turned red as a beet. Bosko grinned at him as wide as he could through the goggles, and was predictably completely ignored.

“Herr Baron! Um, sorry, we’re a little late,” Master Sorin said, subconsciously reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Bosko rolled his eyes internally and went to go stand by the door. Boris snorted at him as Bosko passed, because he was an uptight prick, so Bosko folded back up the goggles so he could waggle his eyebrows and twiddle his fingers at him fatuously. Boris glared.

“…know about the cult of assassins who have been trying to kill me?” Master Sorin said, voice tinged with that peculiar mix of cold anger and Heterodyne harmonics that the Guard was beginning to associate with Master Sorin doing something _fun_ , and Bosko’s attention fixed on his Master’s conversation of its own accord.

“Yes,” the Baron said calmly. “The Guild of the Witness of Devastation, I believe you called them. One of the groups that have sprung up recently focused on eradicating the Spark by means of violence, although until recently they’d been deemed relatively ineffective.” Master Sorin stiffened, back straight, opened his mouth to protest. The Baron raised a hand. “It seems,” he continued, voice getting wry, “they suddenly came into some funding.”

“ _I’ll_ say,” Master Sorin growled, fingers clenching on the notes he’d brought with him.

“Mm,” the Baron agreed. “Which leads me to the point _I_ wanted to address in this meeting.”

And then he fixed Master Sorin with a scowl that made Master Sorin blink and then _visibly_ hunch like a naughty little boy without the Baron having to say anything at all. “I _believe_ we discussed your tendency to take over towns without first gaining clearance to do so after your _last_ misadventure. Or am I mistaken?”

“I…” Master Sorin started, crossing his arms defensively (and crinkling the notes while he was at it, hahaha), “I didn’t _really_ take over, though. It was… well, all those Sparks going at the problem at once, _someone_ had to make them all go in the same direction, or we’d _still_ be…” Master Sorin trailed off, face getting a little clouded—oh damn, was he still feeling guilty about the bombs? Bosko cringed; that was _his_ mistake more than Master Sorin’s. He’d found one bomb and stopped looking in the Square. Stupid. And Master Sorin hadn’t even yelled at them about it, had instead blamed himself. Which was ridiculous since he _hadn’t been there_ , really, and just made Bosko feel worse.

He’d be more thorough next time. Master Sorin spent enough time worrying about stuff like this without members of his Guard piling on more.

The Baron didn’t say anything, face carefully neutral as Master Sorin collected himself. “I gave the government back to the elected leaders as soon as the crisis was over,” Master Sorin continued finally, subdued.

The Baron was silent for a moment, eying Master Sorin consideringly. One finger tapped against the wood of the lab bench as he did—steady and firm. Bosko let himself go still, blend into the wall as much as possible, watched the Sparks watching each other like—the Baron wouldn’t go for Master Sorin, that was ridiculous. They were in the heart of Castle Wulfenbach in one of the Baron’s personal labs, surrounded by the Baron’s inventions. There was no question that in a fight right now between the Baron and Master Sorin that Klaus Wulfenbach would _win_ (and then Bozidar would, but at that point it would be too late).

“Cosnebun was well done,” the Baron said finally, in a voice that was surprisingly kind considering the topic of discussion. Bosko felt the tension go out of him all at once. “There was little else you could have tried in that situation, and the fact that you managed to disable most of the bombs without more loss of life considering your time constraints was frankly exemplary.” Master Sorin’s shoulders slumped a little bit more, this time in relief.

And then, of course, Klaus kept talking. “I was referring to your _other_ acquisition, actually.”

“Oh, you mean _that_ town,” Master Sorin said, shaking off the sadness like a dog in favor of a tone that was sort of vibrating with remembered tension and anger. Bosko pursed his lips, and very calmly reached up to hit the button on his goggles again. Boris glared at him.

“I’m not apologizing for that, Herr Baron,” Master Sorin was saying, arms crossed again—stubborn instead of defensive this time. Haha. “That man had been funding a murderous cult in an attempt to kill someone he’d _never met_ because I _might_ have at some point been _inconvenient_ to him! He didn’t deserve a town at all! And anyway,” he said, clearly warming to the topic. “Who _else_ would he have tried that on, if I’d just left him alone? I had to do _something_ about him—“

“I agree,” the Baron interrupted, leaving Master Sorin blinking at him mid-tirade. “The issue is that you acquired a town for the Wulfenbach Empire _without first clearing it with the Wulfenbach Empire_. Again. When you _had time and opportunity to do so_.”

“I did _not_ have time and opportunity,” Master Sorin said, blowing himself up in an offended huff, arms flying out. “For all I knew, his spies had already told him I was coming! The Guild was reading my mail! Putting my plans in writing on the subject and waiting for a response would not only have been…been asking for a bigger fight, it would arguably have been actively handing him the information!”

“…Hm,” the Baron said, giving Master Sorin a thoughtful look.

“And another th—Hm?”

“You’re correct, that is an issue. We’ll have to get you a secure way to send information in future.”

“…Oh.” Master Sorin deflated all at once, like a particularly embarrassed punctured air balloon.

“I was asking for an explanation,” the Baron informed Master Sorin flatly. “Having received one, I am satisfied that this was not another reckless disregard of my request to inform me of your intent to conquer a town that I would then have to administrate.”

“…Oh,” Master Sorin said again. He started to reach up to cover his face—which really was red, awwww poor kid—and stopped when he nearly gave himself a face-full of notes. Bosko suppressed the urge to snicker. Seriously, Master Sorin should just put those down. “…Great! So how do I send you—oh, hey, what if I built a mechanical message bird! It could be small enough to avoid capture, and it might even be faster than a mail balloon, since it wouldn’t need to make stops—“

Aaaaand they’d lost him for the duration. Bosko grinned, watching Master Sorin begin to flail around for a clear spot on his notes and absently pull a pen out of his belt to start writing things down. The Baron was watching, too, eyes much more amused than the rest of his face was. Huh, Master Sorin did that sometimes, but he wasn’t nearly as good at it. Interesting…

“—wonder if I could work in a way for it to hold a package as well as report—for samples! It would probably have to do with the amount of thrust available—“

“Unfortunately,” the Baron finally interrupted. “If you build an object to carry messages, it will be shot out of the sky before it reaches port. I do, however, have a device I use for this purpose for questers and spies already in stock. Why don’t I assign you one of those.”

Master Sorin gave the Baron a look that was _so betrayed_ that Bosko really couldn’t help snorting aloud this time. Master Sorin shot him a glare—oh, that was the ‘you’re fired’ face. Pffff… “…I suppose that would work, too, Herr Baron,” he muttered.

The Baron’s lips thinned a little, like he was either trying to hide a frown or a smile. “Of course, that does not preclude you from reworking the mechanism once you receive it, so long as the frequency and serial numbers are not obscured.”

“Oh!”

“You’ll need a higher wind frequency than you were thinking, however. Perhaps a propeller would be more appropriate—“

“But that would—“ Master Sorin paused, eyes on his notes, and then slowly lowered them to look at the Baron. “That’s interesting, Herr Baron,” he said. “But before we really… get started on that path, I just wanted to go back to my original topic really quickly.”

The Baron blinked, raised an eyebrow. “…The cult?”

“I’m going to kill them.”

Boris’s head shot up from the papers he’d been looking at and towards Bosko’s Master, mouth falling open in shock. The Baron, on the other hand… paused, face going back to neutral again. Bosko watched, shoulders tight, as he looked over Master Sorin, searched for something in his face. Master Sorin looked back, jaw tight.

“That is uncharacteristic of you,” the Baron pointed out, flatly.

“I know,” Master Sorin said, and laughed—a short, sharp bark that ended in a crack. Bosko suddenly felt cold. “I _hate_ it. And I hate them for making me feel like this, and I hate being _able to do it_.” He closed his mouth, like he was stopping the rest from coming out. Like he was ten seconds away from spewing his guts to _Baron Wulfenbach_ , of all people. Bosko bit down on his tongue again, stopped himself from stepping forward and taking his Master out of the room where he could break down in private.

The Baron nodded, slowly, still eyeing Master Sorin with that considering look. “The truth is,” he began, voice flat and precise, “that while there are times when cults like this are… useful, this particular cult has no more intelligence that they can offer. Between that and the level of destruction they appear willing to achieve for an ultimately impossible and misguided goal, their continued existence is a net loss for the Empire as a whole.” And then he sighed, all at once, like he was tired. “Unfortunately, Petrescu, there is no way to save people from their own terminal stupidity. There comes a time when attempting to do so is a futile exercise.”

“This is one of those times, then?” Master Sorin asked, and he sounded hollow, eyes on his notes. “I’m right, that they need to die?”

“I was about to send DuPree,” the Baron responded. Master Sorin nodded.

“Well,” he said, and his voice caught only a little bit. “At least I’ll probably do less _property_ damage than _DuPree_.”

“I would _hope so_ ,” the Baron said, with feeling, and Master Sorin snorted.

Bosko wondered, apropos of nothing, what you had to say to a Heterodyne, and how many times you had to say it, to make them doubt themselves as thoroughly as Master Sorin did sometimes. Considering he doubted Master Sorin would _ever_ go back to Vulkanburg, and would certainly frown on Bosko dangling every last man, woman, and child over the age of 22 over a lava pit until he found out, Bosko suspected he’d never really know.

“I would appreciate a report on anything they do know,” the Baron said now, turning away from Master Sorin like he assumed the conversation was nearly over. “Before you eliminate them, that is. Also, keep in mind that any property damage that occurs during a mission for the Empire must be _paid for_ by the Empire, and I would appreciate it if I could instead use that money for creating safer and more serviceable _roads_.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Herr Baron,” Master Sorin said, clearly trying for light.

“You’ll forget the moment there’s a building in your way,” the Baron corrected, voice wry.

“To be fair,” Master Sorin said, “all of my men are jaegermonsters.”

“Hoy,” Bosko protested, and forced his face into a wounded expression again. “Ve dun fight _buildings_ , dot’s _boring_.” Master Sorin snorted, turned to look at Bosko again for the first time since this conversation really started.

“…Bosko, I said to stop playing with the goggles.” Bosko innocently pressed the button to close the goggles again, pretending sheepish. The Baron sighed.

“Nevermind, just keep an accurate tally,” he said, voice much more amused than he likely wanted it to be.

“I’ll do my best,” Master Sorin said wryly. “But… I should probably let you get back to work.”

“Yes, I do have a lot of _that_ ,” the Baron said. “I will send along the communicator.” He paused, and then added “I’d be interested in seeing what you come up with, before you head out.”

“Oh!” Master Sorin’s eyes widened, surprised. “Yes, sure, I’ll send… my notes?”

“That will do well,” the Baron said, and then Boris cleared his throat, pointedly.

Master Sorin cringed. “I’ll stop taking up your time. Thank you, sir.”

“Have a good evening.”

Master Sorin turned on his heel and all but bolted for the door, face set on ‘not sure how I feel about this’. Bosko slipped out just before him, slammed the door closed behind Master Sorin with some satisfaction. “Whew!” he said, cheerfully as he could. “Dot vos _intense_. High drama, dere! Not enough explosions, though, Master, hyu should work on dot.”

“…I hate you,” Master Sorin said, somewhere between aghast and amused, even through the distraction tugging at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He sighed, began to walk down the hallway—huh, not towards the lab. Where—oh, his parents were down this way, weren’t they? Ah, well, that made sense, Bosko supposed. “Seriously, you’re the _worst_.”

“Aww, thenk hyu,” Bosko said, and batted his eyelashes at Master Sorin as he caught up. Master Sorin gave him an exasperated look, though the way the corners of his mouth were turned up made Bosko think he wasn’t really _committed_ to the exasperation. Only about half-committed. Bosko pursed his lips, consideringly.

Then he hit the button on the goggles again.

“…I am _taking those away from you_ ,” Master Sorin snapped, and his hand shot out to try to grab the goggles off Bosko’s head. Bosko dodged, cackling, and bolted down the hall—just slow enough Master Sorin could keep up, and so he’d be able to get around him if something happened, of course.

Also so he was in arm’s reach of Master Sorin’s goggles, so he could steal those, too. Which he did, amidst howls of offense, and shoved onto his hat above his own.

Really, it was important to have priorities!


	7. Stanislava

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Radovana.

The guy wasn’t bad-looking, actually—tall, with the kind of build that implied he carried a lot of large stones around under one arm—like, for example, what he’d been doing before they arrived, other hand filled with a sheaf of papers he’d been reading as he walked. Dark hair with curls only a little less boingy than Master Sorin’s own, skin a shade that implied a Mediterranean origin under all that stone dust.

He was also staring at Master Sorin like he recognized him and really hadn’t expected to see him here, and was slowly turning the color of a ripe cherry.

Master Sorin was bright red too, already, with much the same surprised look on his face.

And if Stani didn’t miss her guess, that darker bruise-like patch on the guy’s neck was definitely a hickey.

Stani started to grin.

“No,” Master Sorin said, without looking. “No, shut up, don’t say anything.”

“Und _hyu_ deedn’t vant to tell os vot he looked like!” Stani crowed.

“Shut _up_ , Stani.”

“…Sorin?” the guy asked, like he was kind of hoping the answer would be no.

“Yes,” Master Sorin said. “Hi Andros. Again.”

“Uh… do you work here?” the guy asked. “Only… I’m the head of this build site, and I know most of the masons in town, and… I didn’t recognize you… so… uh…”

“Yeah,” Sorin said, still red as a beet. “I’m the Baron’s representative for the rebuilding of the town. Sorin Petrescu. Um.”

“Oh sweet mother,” Andros said, almost conversationally.

“Mm,” Master Sorin agreed.

Stani started laughing. It kind of felt like she’d be doing it for a while.

They were in a town called—actually, Stani wasn’t sure. Some teeny tiny village in the middle of nowhere that primarily survived on farming and hunting in the surrounding Wastelands. Boring, of course, which was probably why some dumb sparky kid had broken through and made weather manipulators that had wreaked havoc on the infrastructure and crops of the—relatively—nearby towns and villages. The Baron had decided that wasn’t acceptable, and had gone in to contain the problem.

Which would have been fine except the kid had weaponized the weather machine in a panic and destroyed most of the village he was trying to protect in the process.

Anyway, the Baron had asked Master Sorin to supervise clean-up, since he hadn’t been that far away, and Master Sorin had obviously said yes.

The first night there, the Guard had decided that Master Sorin’s moping about all the dead people was was not going to be given a chance to settle in for the duration, and Yaro had taken Master Sorin to go and get drunk. Master Sorin had proceeded to pick someone up at the tavern and had gotten home in the early hours of the morning much calmer and also absolutely refusing to give any of them the dirt. Yaro had been similarly, though much more smugly, close-lipped, so Stani had taken her shift following Master Sorin to the first work site with every intention of prying information out of her Master with a metaphorical crowbar.

Andros, it turned out, was the lead mason at the first build site, making his identity easier to find out than anticipated. Much funnier, though!

“I take it she knows what we’re talking about,” Andros said flatly, looking increasingly mortified.

“ _Ho_ , yaz,” Stani gasped, grinning as wide as she could. “Nize _hickey_.” And then she started laughing too hard to keep talking because the poor guy _dropped his rock_ to cover his neck, like that was somehow less conspicuous.

Master Sorin’s eyes followed the movement like he couldn’t help himself at all. His blush had now reached epic proportions, and very possibly had gotten stuck there. He elbowed Stani in the ribs. “This is Stanislava,” he said, still miserably staring at Andros’s hand on his neck. “She’s one of the guards that are assigned to me, so… yeah, she knows… what I was doing last night. As do the rest of them.” Stani snort-gasped and doubled over, clutching her stomach. “I’m really sorry,” Master Sorin said. “They’re always like this.”

“Ah,” Andros said. He sighed, let go of his neck, and bent down to pick up his rock again. From her doubled-over position Stani was in an excellent position to notice his leg muscles flexing through his work pants. A quick glance at Master Sorin proved he was very firmly still looking at where Andros’s head had been a moment ago, mouth set in a grim line like he was kind of hoping the ground would swallow him. Stani sat down on the ground to keep laughing properly.

“I’m really sorry,” Master Sorin said again.

“It’s fine,” Andros said. “Nothing for it now. Um. I’m Andros Michaelides. You’re the Spark who’s supposed to be overseeing everything?”

“Yes,” Master Sorin said, with the air of a man latching onto a lifeline.

“We’ll be working closely for a while, then,” Andros said, neutrally.

“So it would seem,” Master Sorin agreed.

“Do you want to maybe go look at the plans for the build and never talk about this again?”

“Awww,” Stani gasped, from the ground.

“That sounds excellent,” Master Sorin said, shooting her a glare that could boil lead. Stani grinned back, finally starting to get herself under control.

“Great, my tent’s this way. Everyone should be out working, so we should be able to speak more easily there.”

“Iz _dot_ so,” Stani asked, still on the floor, widening her grin even more.

“I’m sorry, she has to come,” Master Sorin explained.

“Hy ken vait outside iffen hyu two vant _privacy_ ,” Stani offered, waggling her eyebrows. Andros started blushing again. Master Sorin quietly put his face in his hands.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Andros offered.

“No, don’t talk to her, she’ll just keep going,” Master Sorin moaned, still covering his face.

“Hy iz verra encourageable,” Stani agreed.

“Ah,” Andros said again.

“I think today is a bust,” Master Sorin said, apropos of nothing. “I think I would like to start today over.”

“With the kind of morning I have had so far, I would really rather just stick it out and go to bed early,” Andros confided, a small smile beginning to play at the corners of his mouth. Master Sorin blinked. 

Andros didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he juggled the papers under the arm holding the rock and offered a hand to Stani. “Let me help you up, ma’am,” he said.

“Oooooh, a _gentleman_ ,” Stani said, and gave him her hand. He pulled her right up with very little help from her. “ _Verra_ nize,” she informed him, glancing at Master Sorin from the side to see if he’d noticed.

Considering he was giving Andros’s shoulders a narrow-eyed look, he probably had. _Interesting_ …

“…Thank you?” Andros said. Master Sorin snorted, obviously pulling himself back to the task at hand.

“Stani, don’t, it’s just _weird_ ,” he said. “Where’s the tent?”

“Oh, this way,” Andros said, and suddenly he was all business. “Actually, let me take you the long way around. I can show you the damage to the old structure while I do, so you’ll understand the new plans when we get there—what do you know about masonry?”

Master Sorin blinked, and his eyes sharpened on Andros like a hawk honing in on a mouse, or a Spark who’d just been challenged. “I’m a fast learner,” he said, shrugging, small smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. “Just talk, I’ll ask if I’m confused.”

“Huh. Well, it’s your funeral,” Andros said with a shrug of his own, and began to talk.

* * *

Stani’s shift ended mid-afternoon, and she stopped on the way back to the camp just outside the town to grab some food (a perfectly good loaf of bread; really, people threw out the darnedest things, this was only a _little_ waterlogged). She walked into the caterpillar still munching, and waited until she was done swallowing before addressing her commanding officer.

“Feefty on der new guy lasting seven months,” she told Veli, leaning up against the wall as she took another bite.

Veli blinked. “New guy?”

“Last night guy,” Stani said through her mouthful. “He iz a goot mason und Master Sorin iz vorking vit him de whole time.”

Veli clenched his jaw, and then visibly forced himself to relax. “Hy think iz Nikias vit der pool,” he said, trying for casual and missing by a mile. Stani internally rolled her eyes. “Tell him hy vant to bet three months. Dey never last on de road.”

“Ha,” Stani said, and turned to find Nikias. “Ve’ll see!”


	8. Yaroslav

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Blazh.

So the ants had been a bit of a surprise. Not that Yaro minds, he’s always up for some high speed Caterpillar driving through dense forest while balancing on top of a curved roof and picking off giant venom-shooting carpenter ants. It’s just the goop itself was kind of acidic and definitely gunked up the firing mechanism in his gun. It’s pulling too much to the left now, which made the shots he’d pulled off more impressive but probably shouldn’t be allowed to continue.

Carpenter ant goop or not, though, the Guard rotation continues on. When the night shift Yaro’d got stuck with rolls around he lugs a barrel to sit on into the forge area behind the Caterpillar engine and plops down against the warm wall, giving Rada a quick nod in passing (she snorts at him as she wanders off—awww he’s gonna get a lecture about something, isn’t he?). Then he pulls out his musket without a by-your-leave.

“Hyu haff a brush hy ken use for cleaning, Master?” he asks, snapping the barrel open to take a look down the inside. Bluh, that is going to be hell to get out, and it looks like some of the metal eroded, too…

“Mm? Oh, yeah,” Master Sorin says, and puts down his hammer to go and rummage through a drawer. “You doing alright?”

“Hy tink dey gummed op der—oh, hyu dun mean der gun!” Yaro puts his musket over his knees to look over at Master Sorin, gives him his sunniest grin. “Yah, iz fine, Master, mine leathers caught most ov der goop schtoff, und hy haff a spare und ken repair der rest. It takes more den schmelly goop to schlow _me_ down! Hy effen got der vun who schprayed me, it deed a barrel roll ting _right_ off der Caterpillar. _Pow! Schplat_!” He mimes shooting, then claps his hands together in demonstration, still grinning.

Master Sorin snorts at him and wrinkles his nose at the mental images—ha, score!—as he walks over to hand Yaro the brushes. Oh, nice! These look new! Ish. “I should see if I can’t make a prototype for that,” he mutters, eyes sliding back to his anvil almost of their own accord. “Body armor, or… hm.” He looks back at Yaro, a bit of a wry twist to his mouth. “Hope you weren’t expecting me to actually sleep tonight.”

“Eh,” Yaro says, and knocks his foot against the barrel. The brandy in it sloshes. “Hy kem prepared. Hyu iz a big boy, hy iz not gonna tuck hyu in iffen hyu dun vant to schleep.” …Oh, hey, maybe that’s what Rada was snorting about! Huh. Oh well! “Prototype for der goop, hyu mean?” That would make sense. Yaro doesn’t know what _else_ body armor would be relevant to in the last few days…

“Hm, yeah. I was kind of thinking about shields,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the anvil, “but maybe body armor is more pressing. At least for you and Amo—hey, do I even have your measurements?”

“Huh.” Yaro thinks about it, starting to go through the process of cleaning his gun on automatic as he does so. “Hy dun tink hyu do, ektually! Wow, vierd! Hyu iz alvays makink der fon toyz… hoy!” He looks up and mock-glares at Master Sorin. “Vhy dun hy get fon toys, Master? Hy deserve toys, too! Iz dot hyu dun like me as moch, isn’t it? Becawz hy keep making hyu kom out vit me und relax!”

“Yes,” Master Sorin says, mouth pinched tight so that he won’t smile. Yaro mimes being stabbed in the heart and dramatically falls off his barrel, gun and all. Master Sorin snorts, and then starts laughing, which is very mean and cruel of him. Yaro grins from the floor.

“No, I think it’s because you tend to be a bit more removed from the action, so you don’t _break_ stuff as much,” Master Sorin assures him, coming around and offering a hand. Yaro takes the offered hand and pulls Master Sorin down with him. Master Sorin _oophs_ , and then elbows Yaro in the diaphragm, still laughing. “Yes, good, now we are both on the floor. Very much improved.”

“Hyu iz velcome,” Yaro tells Master Sorin haughtily, and then holds his musket up so he can see what he’s doing to keep cleaning it.

“I really should get your measurements, though, if only so I can replace the leathers the ants ruined today,” Master Sorin muses, watching Yaro work idly.

“Naw, hy ken just buy more, though.”

“You were just complaining I don’t make you toys.”

“Hy dun need _armor_ , hy iz shootink from high places,” Yaro insists. “Leathers iz better, hy gots lots ov pockets for ammo und hy ken climb better.”

“I bet I could make you _flexible_ , _light_ body armor,” Master Sorin insists. “Here, I’ll make some and then we’ll try it and see if you like it. You’re about the same height as Blazh… or would it be better to use Stani’s measurements? For the overall fit, I mean.”

“Eh? Stani iz taller und haz broader shoulders, hy tink.”

“Yeah, but I could cut that down. It’s just for the overall shape. You’d need more room in the chest piece and less in the cr—“

“Naw, hy iz ektually closer to Rada dere,” Yaro says. “Mine hipz iz vider den Stani, too. But _really_ , Master, hy _like der leathers_.”

“…I’m going to make you body armor,” Master Sorin says. “Also, there are holes in the barrel of your musket, _please_ tell me you weren’t shooting a musket with holes in the barrel.” Yaro gives up, starts snickering helplessly. Really, why did he bother? “You _did_ , didn’t you,” Master Sorin accuses. “Give me that!”

“Hy didn’t!” Yaro defends himself, still snickering, as he lets Master Sorin snatch his musket and stomp back over to the anvil. “Der acid just corroded der schteel, hy tink. Bot dot vould be preddy cool, ektually, mebbe hy should see iffen hy ken shoot it vit—“

“No,” Master Sorin says, and begins taking the musket apart. “I am going to fix this, and you are _not to use it until I do_.”

“Aw, bot—“

“You were _just complaining you don’t get toys_.”

“Bot dis iz not _toys_ ,” Yaro complains. “Dis iz mine _musket_.”

“Oh for…I’m going to give it _back_ , Yaroslav,” Master Sorin says, looking up from examining Yaro’s musket to glare at him. Yaro pinches his lips and glares back from his position on the floor, suspiciously. “I _am_!”

“…Fine, bot hy vant a real toy, too, den,” Yaro says, crossing his arms. “Und not armor, hy vant someting _fon_.”

“…If you stop complaining, I will make your musket sing,” Master Sorin says. Yaro blinks.

“…Vot, really?”

“Yes.” Master Sorin looks back. “I’ve had the theory for ages, but doing it to a sword would be sort of boring. Doing it to a _gun_ would be an interesting challenge, though. I’d have to figure out how to make the different pieces vibrate differently to create a harmony—“

“Hyu iz gonna make it _sing_?” Yaro repeats, incredulously.

“You wanted a toy,” Master Sorin answers, snottily. “If you didn’t want something a child would like, maybe you should have just let me fix it without complaining!”

“ _Who’s complainink_ ,” Yaro says, “dot vould be _hilarious_. Gott’s leedle feesh in trowsers, ken hyu _really do dot_? Hy iz gonna haff _so moch fun_ —“ Master Sorin starts laughing, cutting Yaro off. Puts his head down on his arms on the anvil and laughs, even.

“What am I going to _do_ with all of you,” he moans, clearly grinning into his arms. Yaro grins back, goes back to sit on his barrel.

“Vell, hyu iz gonna make os singing veapons, obviously,” he says, cheerfully. “Ken hyu make it shoot in harmony too?”

“One thing at a time, Yaro, red fire!”

“Phooey.”


	9. Zbignev

“ _HYU SCHOT HYU WHORE MOUTH_!” Stani lunged clear over the fire at Milosh’s throat, mace swinging.

Zbignev was moving even before Milosh had fully responded, knocking Dario into the fire before he could get all the way to his feet (because of course Dario was lunging to Milosh’s defense, and nevermind it was Milosh who was drunkenly shooting his mouth off), and grabbing Stani by the scruff. He used her own momentum to fling her up and over Milosh’s head and into the nearest tree, then shoulder checked Milosh to the ground with the rest of _his_ momentum and put a boot on the big idiot’s throat. “ _Efferyvun schtop_ ,” he bellowed. “Stani! Go und cool off! Dario, put hyuself out und sit hyuself beck down, _now_! Und _hyu_ ,” he growled down at Milosh. “Go _beck to de bunks_ und either _sober op or pass out_. Hy vill deal vit _hyu_ later!”

Sometimes it was good to be an officer. Stani picked herself up and stomped off, still clearly seething, and Dario sheepishly put his ass back on the tree stump he’d been occupying before all this started, patting the flames on his uniform and fur out while he did. Milosh took another kick and a growl, but he did what he was told, too, lumbering to his feet much more clumsily than he ever would usually and skulking off to the third Caterpillar car. Zbignev watched him go, teeth still bared, and then rounded on the rest of the clustered jaegerkin around the fire. They immediately went back to innocuously chatting and drinking (or as innocuous as jaegers ever got during those activities, anyway.) Zbignev sighed, and let his shoulders relax.

There weren’t usually that many real conflicts in Sorin Heterodyne’s Honor Guard. The usual ribbing and feather ruffling from sixteen brothers in close quarters 90% of the year, sure, but generally nobody went for the throat. Milosh hadn’t even been hitting Stani’s hot buttons on purpose, just getting drunk and maudlin for whatever reason tonight, and picking the exact wrong topic to bemoan.

Rada would have knocked _him_ in the fire the moment it was clear where his rambling was going, and Veli would have had the conversation changed before the first real sentence was out of Milosh’s mouth. Rada was on leave tonight, though, off doing whatever she did when she wasn’t with the group, and Veli had drawn Master Sorin duty and had followed him into the town they were camping outside to get some food into him. That left Zbignev, as first lieutenant and Captain Velimir’s second in command, in charge of their mob of idiots tonight, and he’d made the mistake of hoping Milosh would have more damn sense.

Jaegers knew better than to talk about Master William and Master Barry’s disappearance. Especially around the jaegerkin who had been slotted for, and summarily dismissed from, their Honor Guards. Or the jaegerkin who’d gone out looking afterwards and been recalled when they found Master Sorin, like Tahir, who was uncharacteristically quietly slipping away from the group as Zbignev watched and vanishing into the trees. Great. Zbignev made a mental note to check all of Milosh’s things later, make sure at least some of them were still useable when Tahir finished pranking the unholy shit out of them. Really, the only saving grace of the situation is that Master Sorin hadn’t been around to hear it.

On the way to find Stani to give her an opportunity to blow off some steam, he ran directly into Master Sorin and Veli—just out of range of sight of the campfire but certainly in hearing range of all the shouting, and whispering to each other furiously. Of course.

“ _No, vait anodder minute, boss, seriously—_ “

“ _What if someone was hurt—Veli let go—_ “

“ _Hy iz tellink hyu, hyu need to vait—_ Sorin _! Hyu iz gonna make dis vorse if hyu just just barge in—_ “

“Keptain,” Zbignev says, in a normal tone of voice that would carry to the eavesdroppers but not to the camp fire. Veli jumped and whirled, looking some combination of ridiculously guilty and very, very relieved. Master Sorin’s eyes zeroed in on Zbignev like a predator spotting dinner. Zbignev gave another sigh and waved goodbye to any chance this evening was going to be salvageable.

“What happened,” Master Sorin said, very predictably. “What was that? Is anyone hurt?”

“Efferyvun iz fine,” Zbignev assured him. “Vos chust Milosh runnink hiz mouth und hittink a nerve—“

“No,” Master Sorin said, very steadily. “That is not what happened. Or it might be, but part of the nerve was me, and I would like an explanation.”

Zbignev flinched, couldn’t help it—he’d really been hoping Master Sorin just hadn’t heard that part—and Master Sorin’s mouth went really thin in response.

“Vat if hy go und talk to Stani,” Veli suggested, and Master Sorin turned his dark, sharp stare on him. Veli didn’t even pause. “Probably hyu iz not gonna help, since hyu got in de vay, yez? Boss, vhy dun hyu und Zbignev… tek a valk? For a bit? Somevhere dat iz not de camp?”

“Veli—“

“Hy tink dot’s a goot hydea, Master,” Zbignev interrupted. “Giff efferyvun time to cool off, mebbe.”

“I still don’t know what I’ve even _done_ ,” Master Sorin snapped, voice raising. Behind them, the chatter at the camp fire cut off. Zbignev closed his eyes.

“Hyu haff not done ennyting, Master. Keptain, hyu’d better try to find Tahir, too.”

“Jah,” Veli said, and escaped down the way Zbignev had been headed. If he’d had a tail, Zbignev bet it would be tucked. Traitor.

Zbignev looked back at Master Sorin, took in the angry, concerned, bewildered face, the corners of hurt that were beginning to take root. “…Let’s valk a bit,” he said, and started to walk back down the little path towards the town. For a second, he though maybe Master Sorin wouldn’t follow, but a few seconds later he did. Trotted to catch up, and then fell into step with Zbignev, hands in his pockets. He didn’t say anything. Zbignev nodded, feeling weirdly grateful, and then started ordering his thoughts.

“So vot did hyu hear,” he asked, finally.

“Apparently, I like all of you too much, even though I wasn’t even raised _near_ Mechanicsburg,” Master Sorin answered, stiffly. “And then he compared that to the Heterodyne Boys in a way that made it sound like they didn’t like you at all, to the point where they would rather go off and get killed than take a few jaegers along.”

“…Vell, he didn’t quite _say_ dot,” Zbignev hedged.

“Because Stani interrupted,” Master Sorin pointed out, flatly.

“…Mm,” Zbignev replied noncommitally, and sighed. “Hokay, so first, hyu dun haff to vorry about de first part.”

“Me liking you too much? You’re saying I don’t, or I do and I should just pretend I never heard him say it?” And there was the hurt Zbignev had seen creeping in before. Zbignev side-eyed his Master, and spent a second thinking very carefully about how to say what he was going to say next.

“Hy iz sayink,” he started, “dot… dere iz seventeen in dis caravan. Dere iz hyu, who iz our Heterodyne to protect, und dere iz os, who iz alvays here to protect hyu, und dere iz nobody else. Und vhen hyu see der same seventeen faces day in und day out, over und over, und dose iz who hyu talk to und bicker vit und fight vit und fight for, hyu get attached. Und dot iz… not usually der case, vit a Heterodyne.” He shrugged. “Usually, dey haz der town, und de family, und de odder Mechanicsburgers, und der Guard iz… all chust part of dot.”

“So I like you too much as _people_ ,” Master Sorin snapped, and stopped right there in the road, shoulders hunched and eyes sharp and damn and blast, but Zbignev was _fucking this up_ — “I should, what, stay at a distance? Not talk to any of you or care when you’re hurt? Not consider you friends? What?”

“ _No_.” Zbignev reached up and rubbed at his face. “Hy iz not sayink iz _bad_. Hy iz sayink it _heppened_ , und in odder circumstances… it vouldn’t haff. Und…” He shrugged, strove for words. Master Sorin was still, arms crossed defensively, corners of his mouth pinched against whatever words were piling up behind his teeth. Zbignev turned away to look straight ahead of him. “Vell, hyu iz mortal, Master. Dot iz not goink avay. Iz not goink to be fon for os, in de end.”

“… _Oh_.”

Zbignev kept his eyes straight ahead, did not turn to check on his Master to see what his face was doing. The tone though… that one was almost worse than the hurt-angry one. Mmrgh. He started walking again. After a minute, Master Sorin followed. “Milosh vos drunk,” Zbignev said, flatly, like there had never been an interruption. “Und vos makink a comparison ov two situations dot had nottink to do vit each odder, iz vot hy meant vhen hy said hyu didn’t haff to vorry about it. Master Villiam und Master Barry’s situation und hyu situation iz not de same.”

They were both quiet for a minute, just walking along. Zbignev couldn’t read the tone—he wasn’t really that great at reading Master Sorin, not like he could read the Guard. You could _assume_ certain things with the Guard that just weren’t usually true with Master Sorin. It was… a little disquieting. “Then what was it?” Master Sorin asked finally, quietly.

Urgh. “It vos… also circumstances,” Zbignev tried. “Different circumstances. Master Villiam und Master Barry vos… tryink to bring Mechanicsburg into de vorld, hy tink. Or vot dey thought vos de right vay to be in de vorld, vhich vos different from deir ancestors’ vay.”

“Which was raiding.”

“Vhich vos raidink,” Zbignev agreed. “Und ve vere de raiders. It vos… compleekated.”

“…Hm,” Master Sorin said. Zbignev stared out at the tree tops. Wow, look at that branch. It sure did have leaves on it.

“Also,” he said, “deir Momma’s town vos held hostage by jaegerkin so she vould kom to Mechanicsburg and marry Master Saturn.”

“…Ah. That…” Zbignev allowed himself a small smile at the note of off-balanced floundering in Master Sorin’s voice there. Good to have company in that. “…Yeah. Okay.”

“Ve iz not nize, see,” Zbignev said, and chanced a glance at Master Sorin. He looked… hrm. Serious. Sad. Sad at what? Zbignev couldn’t tell.

At that, though, he blinked, puffed up right before Zbignev’s eyes. “Hey, you’re plenty nice!” he snapped. “You had orders!”

…Wow, this kid. Zbignev snorted, sighed, and reached up to ruffle his Master’s hair. “Jah, bot ve liked de orders, Master Sorin, dun be dumb.”

“Hey!” Master Sorin dodged, elbowed Zbignev in the ribs like that would make any difference. “…You’re nice without orders to be nice _now_.”

“Right op until hyu raid anodder town, jah, verra nize,” Zbignev drawled. “Und de rest ov de time, ve iz vit hyu, und ve already like hyu.”

Master Sorin sobered. “…Yeah, that’s true, you said,” he agreed, and ran a hand through his hair. “…I don’t know how to fix that.”

“Hy iz gonna keel Milosh,” Zbignev said, wryly. “Dere iz nottink to fix, Master. Ve like hyu. Ve vould alvays haff liked hyu. Ve iz closer den mebbe ve vould haff been in anodder situation bot… dis iz vot hyu _need_ , jah?”

Master Sorin snorted, ran a hand through his hair again. “Yes, and years from now, everyone’s going to be suffering because I was lonely in my twenties. Great.”

Zbignev rolled his eyes, elbowed Master Sorin in the ribs (he oophed). Okay, that was enough of _that_. “Now hyu iz chust beink dramatic for de sake ov it. Hyu iz not our first Heterodyne, enny ov os. Ve haff been to dis rodeo befur, Master. Ve knew vot ve vos gettink into vhen ve accepted a Guard position, und hyu decided dot hyu vanted to _travel_.”

Master Sorin squinted at him, clearly suspicious. “You just said—“

“Hy know vot hy said.” Zbignev shrugged. “Iz true! Und hyu should know, so hy iz not _dot_ sorry hy said it, bot iz no reason for hyu to get all sulky. _Hyu_ iz not goink to be around to see it, iz not hyu problem.

“Now,” he continued, before Master Sorin could object (Zbignev could already hear the objections, and honestly, there was exactly zero point to any of them), “ve iz about halfvay beck to town. De vay hy see it, ve ken go all de vay dere und get a drink, or ve ken go beck und see if Veli’s gotten de eediots calmed down. Vot vould hyu rather?”

“…This is not over,” Master Sorin threatened.

“Naw,” Zbignev agreed. “Ve gots et _least_ anodder sixty years ov it, hy figure. Heterodynes iz long-lived.”

“ _Zbignev_!” Sorin sighed, laughing. “I’m not in the mood for alcohol, honestly.”

“Cards it iz,” Zbignev answered blythely, spinning on his heel and beginning to stroll back to camp. He reached up and threw an arm around Master Sorin’s neck in passing, began towing him along. “Blazh vill be thrilled, hyu schtill owe heem a dare. Hy bet hyu ken argue him into double or notting…”

“Nope, I am never playing Blazh at cards again,” Master Sorin said, ducking back from under Zbignev’s arm with a huff and falling into step with him. “I made a solemn vow.”

“Vell _dot’_ s not gonna last,” Zbignev prophesied.

“Hey! Have a little faith.”

Zbignev kept up the teasing until they got all the way back to the camp fire, and then he handed Master Sorin to the rest of the Guard (Veli and Stani were back, which was at least one good thing, although Tahir was still nowhere to be found) and went to check on Milosh. With any luck, he’d be passed out cold, and Zbignev could exact some well-earned revenge of his own on his person before he woke up.


	10. Snappy

Sub-routine enabled: Guard duty

Half-hour: no disturbance

Half-hour: no disturbance

Half-hour: no disturbance

“ _Ugh_. Snappy, _be quiet_.”

Voice recognition: Master

Acknowledgment: “Be quiet.”

Action: Commence sub-routine: Night guard duty

Sub-routine enabled: Night guard duty.

Half-hour: no disturbance

Half-hour: no disturbance

Disturbance: Unknown occupant

Action: _Zap_.

“ _Gah!_ ”

“What— _Shit_!”

Disturbance: Friend jaeger

Action: Assist

“Goot _boy_ , Snappy. Who iz a goot guard, iz _hyu_ , yaz!”

Voice recognition: Friend jaeger: Lyubo

Acknowledgement: positive reinforcement: praise and “head pats”

Action: Positive acknowledgement

“Hyu hokay, Master?”

“Yeah, fine, couldn’t find my—oh for heaven’s sake, it fell off the side-board.”

“Snappy, did hyu knock Master Sorin’s ting off the side-board?”

Acknowledgement: Unknown order

Action: Ignore

Action: Recommence sub-routine: Night guard duty

“Oh lord, let’s just get the assassin out of here, guys. Is he still alive?”

“Eh? Yaz, chust unconscious.”

“Good, let’s just… tie him up and deal with him in the morning. I’m so tired, Snappy kept waking me up.”

“Huh? Thought hyu feexed dot.”

“Forgot to set him to night mode.”

“Ah.”

“Maybe hyu come und schtay in de room vit de rest of us, boss.”

“I don’t think anyone else will be coming tonight, do you?”

“Humor me.”

“Oh, fine. Snappy, you can talk again.”

Voice recognition: Master

Acknowledgement: “You can talk.”

Action: Commence sub-routine: Guard duty

Half-hour: no disturbance

Half-hour: no disturbance

Half-hour: no disturbance

Disturbance: Unknown occupant outside room

Action: _Zap_.

“Ow! Hoy!”

Voice recognition: Friend jaeger: Milosh

“ _Snappy_ , vot de _hell_ —“

“Ahahahahahaha—“

“Schot _op_ , Lyubo!”

Acknowledgment: No “head pats.”

Conclusion: Zapped Friend jaeger: Milosh.

Action: Ruuuuuuuuuun.

“Hyu get beck here, hyu leetle—“

“What is _going on out here_ —“

Commence sub-routine: Hide behind Master

“Oh no hyu don’t, hyu boggy ting! Hy iz turnink hyu off!”

“Milosh! We talked about this! Snappy will never learn if we keep turning it off every time it makes a mistake—it’s not _that_ funny, Lyubo.”

“Eet _iz_ , ho mine—“

“Vot iz goink on _now_?”

“It’s nothing, Veli, Snappy just—“

“Snappy! Ve play a game!”

“No! I’m telling, you, we have to actually discipline him or—“

Voice recognition: Friend jaeger: Velimir.

Acknowledgement: Await incoming order.

Action: Acknowledge.

“Freeze!”

Acknowledgement: Freeze.

Action: Cease movement, do not spit.

Recognition: Being turned off.

Action: Ignore previous order.

Action: _Ruuuuuuuuun_.


	11. Nikias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Bosko, and short enough to be unbeta'd! Hopefully I caught everything...

Nikias was going to lose in twelve moves.

“…We could always restart,” Master Gavril said, from his place sitting comfortably in a big chair with his tiny glasses and a small, secretly smug smile on his face.

“Shh,” Nikias said, waving his hand dismissively as his eyes returned to the chess board. “Hy is tinking.”

“Oh, well, we’ll be here all night, then.”

“Dun be so schmug, old man, hy iz not done yet.”

“You’re done, Nikias,” Master Gavril said, but it wasn’t _meanly_ smug, so Nikias decided not to punch him for it. He just sniffed at his charge instead, dismissively, and didn’t even look up. “Nikias, you’re done.”

“Nope,” Nikias insisted, and moved his knight in a direction that was completely ridiculous and absolutely would not save him, but was just crazy enough to make the old man wonder. Hopefully.

“…Well, now you’re going to lose in six moves,” Master Gavril said wryly, and moved his rook to counter.

“Gott verdammt,” Nikias snapped, and swiped his king off the board in a huff. Master Gavril laughed, leaning back.

“Shall I go and get a drink while you mourn?”

“Ken’t, hyu haff to schtay vit me,” Nikias said, crossing his arms and glowering at the board. “Hy should haff chust teken hyu pawns vhen hy had de chence.”

“Oh, no, you were being clever with your queen,” Master Gavril teased. “You’d have had to stop showing off, and then where would we be.”

“Should I come back later?” came an amused voice from the door. “When you’re done gloating, I mean. I can bring dinner with me!”

“Cheek,” Master Gavril said, turning to the door, and Nikias looked up to see a man—early twenties, broad shoulders, square jaw, dark curly hair like Mistress Tereza, and still red, tiny scars peppering the left side of his face. “I know we raised you better than that.”

“I’ve been hanging out with jaegers, they’re a bad influence,” said Master Sorin, only living Heterodyne heir, and he stepped into the room before Nikias could pull his chin off the floor and do more than gawp. Master Gavril got up to take his son’s shoulders, look him over from over top his glasses.

“Hm, what happened?” he said, eyes falling on the Heterodyne heir’s face.

Master Sorin’s eyes immediately slid to the left, shoulders shifting like he was uncomfortable—Nikias half expected him to shuffle his feet guiltily. “Ah, nothing. Just… ah, my windshield exploded, no big deal. They’ll fade.”

“Hm,” Master Gavril said, mouth tilted doubtfully, like he knew exactly what Master Sorin was leaving out and wasn’t at all convinced by the deplorable display of lying in front of him. He sighed, though, shook his son’s shoulders slightly, and turned them both towards the chess table. “Sit down, tell me what you’ve been up to! I only just heard you were coming back. Have you met Nikias, by the way, he’s the jaegermonster with the misfortune of watching me sit in a chair and do nothing this month.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Master Sorin said, smiling at Nikias as he sat down.

“Ah,” Nikias said very intelligently, and then cleared his throat, stood up from the chess table in one jerky motion. “Jah, Master.”

“So, how did your windshield explode, then,” Master Gavril said, interrupting Master Sorin as he frowned and clearly opened his mouth to tell Nikias he could sit back down. Master Sorin immediately went back to looking a little shifty and sheepish at his father.

“Oh, ah, someone… well, an assassin… kind of kicked their way through it,” he admitted. “But Milosh was in the cabin with me, and between the two of us we got rid of him, it was fine.”

“An assassin?” Master Gavril asked, raising an eyebrow at Master Sorin like he didn’t know anything at all about the group of assassins that had been after the Heterodyne heir for the last few months. Like he and Mistress Tereza didn’t _talk_ or something. He kept it up as Master Sorin proceeded to minimize the entire experience of being hunted by a cult and finally turning around and giving them something to be scared of—“there were some casualties—well, about _two hundred_ casualties—and, um a _lot_ of property damage in the end… Actually it was pretty awful, but we handled it, none of the Guard died and I really only got a few scrapes and bruises…”—mouth set in a neutral line and sharp eyes raking over Master Sorin like he was making mental notes of all the telling bits Master Sorin was leaving out.

Nikias internally sighed in relief, went to go _stand back at his post_ at the door instead of tellingly bickering with the Regent’s Consort over a chess game. That had been calculated, for sure. Nikias didn’t really know what the old man’s game was, it’s not like _the entire army_ hadn’t heard about Cosnebun and seethed in jealousy by now. It wasn’t like removing the option of Nikias playing the clown in front of Master Sorin would do anything more than wrong-foot Nikias right off the bat, either! He knew it would, too, he’d had to trick Nikias into admitting he liked strategy games by getting him drunk and soundly trouncing him until Nikias’s competitiveness kicked in.

So he was _planning something_ , and it involved Master Sorin knowing right out of the gate that Nikias was smarter than he’d otherwise let on. Nikias narrowed his eyes at Master Gavril as he thought, claws tapping out a rhythm on his sword in irritation.

He hated not knowing what he was being conned into, it was really grating. Hrmgh…

“They’ve been dealt with, then?” Master Gavril asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach, leveling that same, neutral look at Master Sorin.

Master Sorin blinked. “Dealt with?”

Master Gavril smiled, wryly. “I _have_ met you, Sorin. You’re being hunted, and other people are being caught in the cross-fire. You’ve never been able to sit on the sidelines and let other people fight your battles for you—“

“What do you—“

“Son, you were violating curfew in Vulkanburg from the moment you realized the option was available. Also, you have never been particularly good at lying.”

“…Oh.” Master Sorin shifted in his seat, face starting to turn red, immediately a naughty little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Master Gavril’s mouth was still neutral, but his eyes were _dancing_ at his son, far too amused. “I wasn’t fighting anyone! I was just—“

“You were fifteen and you had decided the curfew was inconvenient and unfair, and so you proceeded to ignore it,” Master Gavril interrupted, eyebrow raised. “You haven’t answered the question.”

Master Sorin sighed, eyes cutting away. He forced them back to his father and squared his shoulders. “Alright, yeah, I’m… I’m going after them.” There was a…hesitance in his voice, but not about the decision, really, more about the words. “We’re… well, we came to make sure all the right people _knew_ about it, and… and because. Well, Veli didn’t really make the Guard with manhunts in mind. Not _this_ way around, anyway. So we’re… picking up a few more jaegers.”

Everything clicked into place in Nikias’s head all at once.

“ _Hyu schneak_ ,” he accused Master Gavril, before he could stop the words coming out of his mouth. Master Sorin’s head snapped to him, eyes wide in surprise. Master Gavril laughed.

“He means me, Sorin,” he assured.

“Hyu iz _honeycombing me_ ,” Nikias complained.

“Is it working?”

“ _Yaz_!”

“What… oh my _God_ ,” Master Sorin said, catching up and turning to level an accusing look at his father. “You tricked me into making your case for you! And I was worried about telling you, too! You…” He shook his head, forcing the amusement off the tilting corners of his mouth, leveled an amused, kind look at Nikias. “You don’t have to join up,” he assured him. “I know Honor Guard is… not really the post most jaegers want to have—“

“Hyu iz _huntink assassins_ vot iz trying to _keel hyu_ ,” Nikias whined, and started to laugh. “Sign me _op_! Mine unit iz… vell, ve iz rebuilding,” he admitted, reaching up to scratch behind his ear, uncomfortable. They’d lost six to Mamma’s the last time they’d been sent out—no deaths, but they were… not going anywhere for a while. At least not until Master Sorin was able to start fixing everyone, and the whole army knew he had a while to go before he would be comfortable with that level of medicine. It was why he’d gotten this post, honestly. The Generals were looking for things for the rest of them to _do_ in the meantime. “Iz gun be _so borink_ for a vhile,” he admitted, shaking off the melancholy that came from thinking of his brothers. “Hy dun haff _ennyting_ more fon to do at all!”

“…Huh,” Master Sorin said, and eyed his _smug, asshole_ of a father again sourly. “How convenient.”

“Ve vos played,” Nikias agreed, still grinning like a fiend.

“Mmmmm…” Master Sorin sighed, and turned a wry smile Nikias’s way. “Well, it’s alright with me, but it’s really Velimir who’s putting the rest of the Guard together. Maybe you should go talk with him?”

“Hy tell him hyu sent me,” Nikias said, wryly. “Chust need to vait until mine shift iz over.”

“Go ahead now,” Master Gavril said. “Unless I miss my bet, there’s someone lurking in the hallway anyway.”

“…Dario should be down the hall a bit,” Master Sorin admitted. “He saw someone was already here, so he stopped to say hello to a jaeger from his old unit guarding a… apparently a secret door?”

…Pfff. “Fine, fine, hy vill send him back dis vay,” Nikias assured, snickering. “Hy see hyu later, Master Gavril. Und Master Sorin!”

He left before he could change his mind, feeling much more energetic than he had for over a month. If nothing else, this would be an interesting change.

* * *

 

“Hoy Veli!”

“Hoy, Nikias! How iz hyu doink?”

“Bored! Ve lost half de unit in der last post, hy haz notting to do. Der Consort thinks hy should volunteer vit hyu.”

“…Vat, really?”

“Jah, sounds like fon!”

“It _does_?”

“Yup. Hy met Master Sorin chust now. He seems like his poppa, yaz? Very nize until hyu hit de wrong nerve, und den de explosions iz _beautiful_.”

“…………….Yez, ektually, dat’s about right!”

“ _Eksulent_. Den hy vant to help chase de assassins. Hy go und tell de Generals for hyu?”

“Ah, sure! Hy let hyu know ven hyu schtart, hokay?”

“Jah, Keptain! Hy see hyu later.”

“Ho boy…”


	12. Amator

“ _Amator, hyu sack ov flea-bitten sheet, vhere IZ hyu_ ,” came the dulcet tones of their very own Sergeant Radovana, floating down the line of cars in a _truly_ spectacular bellow. Amator, who was doing the extremely offensive act of taking a piss behind a tree (away from the camp, even!), blinked. Then he finished up and tucked himself back in—no reason to die with his pants down, after all—and went to meet his fate like a jaeger.

“Here hy iz, sveethot,” he called, swinging up onto the closest car and waggling his fingers at Rada, who was so mad it was genuinely surprising _steam_ wasn’t coming out her ears. “Hy iz _all hyurs_. Hyu tell me vhere hyu vant me, dollink, hy iz a verra flexible— _ack_!” He dodged the flying rock right back off the car, grabbing a handhold at the last minute before he could flop straight onto his back on the forest floor.

“ _Hyu two-bit piss smear ov a bow-legged whore_ ,” Rada howled, and Amo dropped off the car completely as she landed on top of it, taking off down the Caterpillar as she gave chase. Wow, he had no idea what he’d _done_ , but this was amazing! He clearly needed to do it again sometime. Assuming he survived.

“Hy had no hydea hyu’d met mine momma,” he shouted, squeezing between two cars and dashing up the other side of the Caterpillar just before the last one. “Hy thought hy recognized dot schmell!” Rada _shrieked_ and vaulted the car again, landed and tackled Amo before he could dodge backwards in one smooth movement.

“Do I want to know what’s going on?” Master Sorin’s voice floated over from the forge, somewhere between bemused and concerned. Rada looked up from where she was putting Amo in a grappling hold designed to allow her an easier angle for ripping his arms off, and he took the opportunity to roll and buck just right to bang her head into the nearest wheel and wriggle out from underneath her.

“Iz hokay, Master," he called, scuttling his way up the nearest tree and then flipping back off onto the Caterpillar again when Rada rolled to her feet and dived for the trunk. “Ve haff safe vord, iz all consensual!” Veli stuck his head out of the window of the car Amo was perched on, eyebrows raised into his hairline, and before he could stop himself, Amo found himself adding “bot iffen hyu vant to _join os_ ve ken alvayz renegotiate— _eek_!” Rada had flung herself off the same tree branch Amo had used, taking a smaller tree branch with her to use as a club.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Master Sorin said, and a quick glance at him showed Amo that he was beet red again, an utterly scandalized look on his face. Amo wasn’t sure if it was because Rada was attempting to beat Amo’s head in with a tree branch or the implication that he might want to have a threesome with both Rada and Amo involving safe words.

“Hy vos gonna call her off,” Veli said, idly, “bot now hy think hyu probably deserve it. Hoy, Rada! Hit him for me, too!”

“Vait hyu turn!”

“What did you even _do_ ,” Master Sorin asked, as Amo flung himself down the cars again, hoping to outrun Rada with his longer legs.

“He schtole her cigarz und twisted dem into a rude hemp doll,” Tahir crowed, from where he had been apparently watching the entire scene from the canopy of a nearby tree. “She found it in hiz pack!”

Everyone stopped and turned to look up at Tahir.

“Hy _deed_?” Amo asked. “Vot, vos hy feelink _suicidal_ today?”

“ _Tahir_ ,” Rada roared.

“Oops,” Tahir said, not sounding at _all_ repentant, and took off, swinging down and nearly kicking both Rada and Amo in the head with his big hare feet before he hit solid ground and shot off into the trees, cackling.

“Hy iz gon turn hyu _insides_ into a rude hemp doll,” Rada howled, knocking Amo out of the way as she chased after him, phosphorescence reflecting eerily pink off the tree trunks as she gave chase. Amo watched them go, wolf-whistling—

\--and then whipping his crossbow around and shooting into the tree Rada had just run past, teeth bared entirely on instinct. The crossbow bolt made a meaty _thud_ as it hit its mark, and the man hiding in the tree fell out with a shout of alarm.

Veli kicked the window shield off the car and leapt out as Tahir ran up the nearest tree and flipped over Rada’s head to land squarely on the downed spy. Rada spun in place and ran back, reached the spy at the same time Veli did.

Amo’s crossbow bolt had got the guy in the side. He took aim and shot through the hole left by his brothers and sister to get the spy’s knee, and the other knee as he was being forced into a kneeling position with Rada holding the guy’s arms and Veli and Tahir looming over him in the front. Amo jumped off the car, swung up into a tree and made his way over to get a better shot at the asshole’s head, in case he got the bright idea to try a trick they weren’t anticipating.

“Hyu picked de wrong bit ov forest to get lost in,” Veli said, ramping up his glow so it reflected off his teeth and Tahir’s bright green fur and clashed with the soft phosphorescence coming from Rada in front of him. The man flinched. Amo grinned.

“Aww,” he crooned, and the man flinched again, eyes shooting up to the trees. “De leedle burdie iz all lost und skared. Not so tough vit tree crossbow bolts in hyu body und four jaegers breathing down hyu neck, huh, leedle burdie? How hyu gun fly avay to hyu masters _now_ , hmmmm?”

“Let me through,” Master Sorin said, and Amo’s eyes shot to behind their prey to find _their_ Master standing there, eyes sharp and shoulders tight, a still faintly glowing gun fresh from the forge in his gloved hand.

Veli and Tahir stood up and stepped back like they were on strings. Master Sorin walked forward. “Hello,” he said to the spy, who was kneeling on two crossbow bolts embedded under his kneecaps and bleeding from the side and was pinned in place there by a monster. “Were you looking for me?”

“I—“ the spy said, and gulped, choked like he’d nearly swallowed his tongue. Master Sorin nodded.

“Very rude,” he said, pleasantly, like they’d just met on a Sunday stroll through a park. “Eavesdropping on people from trees. You didn’t even bother to introduce yourself! What’s your name?” The man gulped again, started to shake.

Rada shook him harder, suddenly, leaned on his captured arms until he yelped. “Hoy,” she snapped, directly into the man’s ear. “Hyu iz beink talked to!”

“Bruener!” the man gasped. “I’m… Bruener!”

“Pleasure, Herr Bruener,” Sorin Heterodyne said, head tilted to the side, idly tapping his weird, Sparky gun against the side of his leg. “Have you been in this area of the forest long?”

* * *

Master Sorin didn’t kill the spy. He got the name of the lady that had sent him—some minor noble on the border with the Italian states, Amo thought, but he couldn’t be sure, there were so damn many of those little assholes—and what he’d found out—not much, honestly, that wasn’t being said around already, in whispers and telling looks as they went through a new town—and then he pressed the gun to the man’s ear and pulled the trigger. The man spasmed, threw up, and then passed out right there, sagging in Rada’s arms.

Master Sorin turned away. “Bandage him up and then tie him to a tree,” he ordered. “Then find the others and pack up, we’re leaving a little early.”

“Yaz, Master,” Tahir said for all of them, bouncing in place on his feet.

“Leave him some water, too, I don’t want him dying of thirst before someone finds him.”

“Yaz, Master.”

“And—“ Master Sorin paused, turned to look at the guy again, something strange in his eyes. He sighed and shook his head. “No, never mind. Let’s go.”

They were gone half an hour later. They never heard from Bruener again.

(That night, Rada bit the head off her cigar doll while staring straight at Tahir, chewed the thing, swallowed, and then lit the other end up as if it were the most normal cigar in the world. Tahir spent the night on the roof.)


	13. Chestibor

Chestibor wasn’t entirely clear on Veli’s reasoning for still occasionally putting him on night duty.

The point of night duty, from what Chesibor had gathered in the last six years on Master Sorin’s Honor Guard, was to keep Master Sorin from somehow dying in his sleep, and also unofficially to somehow convince him to stay in his room and sleep. Chestibor hadn’t been clear on that last bit at first, and then decided that he didn’t really care for unspoken bullshit rules. If his Master wanted to leave his room at two in the morning and go poke at the cooling system in the Caterpillar, Chestibor would let him. And then he’d keep his damn mouth shut as they all roasted the next day and the engine overheated and nearly melted four times and inexplicably froze solid once and they had to stop for the night not even halfway to where they had planned to be and the Captain gave them both exasperatedly amused looks (in varying levels of exasperation and amusement depending on who he was looking at) and loudly proclaimed—for the twentieth time—that Chestibor was not allowed on night duty Ever Again.

He kept doing it, though. This time, for instance. They’d been in San Marc for two days when they started to hear about the disappearances that had been happening lately. No real pattern or anything, other than all the people going missing knowing something it would take, in Chestibor’s opinion, far to long to learn, like the history of Europa or everything there was to know about carnivorous plants or things. Master Sorin had been a bit twitchy for a while, on edge for some reason he said he couldn’t put his finger on, and when he heard about the smart people vanishing he got all still and sharp, like a knife waiting for the world to cut itself on him. And that night, Veli had watched Master Sorin go to bed consideringly and then abruptly told Chestibor he was taking night duty.

Chestibor had gone, of course, but he’d not been happy about it. He’d been hungry, damn it!

The Spark in this town had opted to put them up in a local inn (and flood the damn thing with suspicious guards who kept looking at them like they might suddenly decide to ransack the town—which they might have, but Master Sorin wouldn’t have liked it, and anyway Chestibor thought most of the buildings looked pretty cheap) instead of in the castle, and the rooms themselves only had the window and the door into the hallway to get out. With those assassins finally gone and Snappy upgraded recently to zap anything that tried to come in the window, Chestibor was the only jaeger stuck on duty, and considering Snappy sometimes zapped suspicious-looking dust bunnies and nobody would be dumb enough to try to get past all the guards, he was anticipating being kind of bored.

So the sound of the window inside Master Sorin’s room opening was a bit of a surprise. Chestibor was spinning and throwing the door open before his brain had registered much more than that, snapping out a “ _Hoy_ ” for Snappy so it didn’t try to zap him while he did his job, and Master Sorin, who was halfway out the window, jumped in surprise, banged his head on the window, and flailed as he began to topple out. Chestibor lunged and caught him before the Heterodyne heir could embarrassingly fall to his death sneaking out a window.

“Vat der dumboozle?” Master Sorin cringed guiltily from where he was hanging in Chestibor’s grip.

“I can explain.”

“Hyu iz on der _fourth floor_ , Master,” Chestibor reminded him, frowning and genuinely confused. “Hyu vould haff gotten schplatted all over der paving stones!”

“I have a rope, actually—“

“ _Vhere_?” Chestibor snapped again. Master Sorin held up a little round thing wordlessly, and then equally wordlessly put it on the window sill and pressed a button. It slotted into place with a little click, and then unwound into a rope. Master Sorin kept looking at Chestibor, face blank.

“…Oh,” Chestibor said, and hauled Master Sorin back into the room. “Vell, hyu iz schtill not supposed to go out alone!”

“I am going, and you can’t stop me,” Master Sorin said, and crossed his arms, glaring at Chestibor. “There is something _weird_ going on in this town! Doctor La Rue has guards on the artisan district, guards on the market, guards in the inn, guards actively patrolling the streets at night—“ He threw his arms out in exasperation, flailing them a little as he warmed to the topic. Chestibor blinked. “There are four guards on any given street when you walk out the door,” his Master continued. “Plus, the castle is one large alarm system. There are three different alarms you can spot just by looking at it from the outside, and I’m sure there are more inside. And that would be _fine_ ,” he said, crossing his arms again, only even more defensively. “That’s a bit _excessive_ , but it’s not my town and as long as he’s not doing anything terrible it’s not my business how many guards he has.Except _now_ we find out people are going missing, and with all that security around there aren’t too many people who could be involved! I am going into that castle whether you like it or not, and I am going to find out what is going on.”

Chestibor waited for a second, but Master Sorin just stood there, continuing to scowl at him, like he was _daring_ Chestibor to object. “Hokay,” he said. “Dot’s fine, bot all hy said vos hyu iz not goink to go _alone_. Und hy dunno iffen dot rope ting iz gonna hold me und hyu.”

Master Sorin stared at him for another minute. “…Oh,” he said finally, looking a bit wrong-footed. Chestibor really didn’t get why he was so surprised. Storming a castle definitely beat standing around in a hallway all night. “It probably will, actually, it should hold about six hundred pounds.”

“Hokay, den,” Chestibor said, and walked over to the window. “Hy go first, in case hy haff to ketch hyu. How iz ve gettink into de kestle.”

“I have a plan for that,” Master Sorin assured him, still looking a bit dazed this was so much easier than he’d clearly anticipated. “I have a device that should disable them before they can go off.”

“Oh, de schtick ting hyu vos vorking on earlier,” Chestibor realized. “Dot’s goot, den. Ve ken go und be beck befur ennyvun knows ve iz gone.”

Master Sorin was starting to grin, now, eyes, dancing in amusement and anticipation. “Why does Veli ever let you take night duty,” he wondered aloud.

“Hy dunno,” Chestibor admitted. “Kom on, though, or de guards kom beck dis vay und ve iz seen.” And he swung himself out the window—only a little bit of a squeeze, and he was definitely going to rub that in Lyubo’s scrawny face next time he tried to wheedle food off Chestibor’s plate—and down the rope without another word.

The two guards at the end of the street did start to turn around before Master Sorin got down, but Chestibor wasn’t one of the glowy members of their Guard, so the chances of them having seen more than a hulking mass of construct before he knocked them out neatly were pretty slim. Chestibor was sure it would be fine.

* * *

It was not fine.

Not because of the guards, they didn’t wake up and tell anyone, and Master Sorin’s stick thing _did_ deactivate at least one of the alarms they’d seen from the outside, maybe two. The problem was more that there were three outside and, as far as Chestibor could count while _dashing through the halls hunched over Master Sorin under heavy automatic musket fire from the walls_ , maybe four more inside. Including the one that controlled muskets in the walls.

“ _Right_ ,” Master Sorin shouted, and Chestibor dodged them both to the right and rolled them under the shot from another one as it brought them into that line of fire. “ _Go go go—down_!”

“Could hyuse more varning,” Chestibor shouted over the shooting, tucking and rolling again—door! He rolled them right, slammed through it, landed in a crouch. Breathed. Master Sorin didn’t answer, concentrating on counting the gunshots, eyes fever-bright as they darted between guns and his fingers tapped out what appeared to be a random set of taps on his leg. Master Sorin’s other hand was still pressing Chestibor’s jacket firmly to the first gunshot wound in his side, the one that would have hit him straight on if Chestibor hadn’t grabbed him at the last second and turned into the blast himself. Chestibor didn’t like how pale he was getting.

“…one. _Now_ ,” he snapped, and Chestibor darted out again in what seemed like a _completely_ random lull and immediately jumped over a musket shot and shot down the corridor again—“ _Left!_ ”—dodged left. He won the other side of the hallway, slammed shoulder-first into a series of guards that were suddenly in his way. The guard fell, and he let go of Master Sorin to whirl around and grab another one, closed his hand around the guy’s head and slammed it down, pulled his fingers out of the skull and whirled to use the body as a meat shield for more gun fire. He shoved the body at the last guy and followed through with a full-body check that made something _crunch_ on the guy who hit the wall, and finally brought his heel down on the first guy, who was attempting to get up. He spasmed and stopped moving.

“ _Go_ ,” he snapped at Master Sorin, and they were taking off down the corridor again, Master Sorin fingers deep in two muskets he was doing something to on the fly.

“In here,” he shouted, seemingly out of nowhere. Chestibor wrapped an arm around Master Sorin’s head to protect him as he used his momentum to knock the door to their right down and propel them both inside, alarms kicking up as they entered and more boots thudding on stone reached his ears over the tinny ring of five different alarms still going off at once.

He picked the door back up to use as a shield as Master Sorin dived into—a filing cabinet? Oh, an office of some sort. Huh.

Guns started firing again. He turned back to the guards, gave them a big, toothy grin, slammed the door into the first one’s gut as the second one lifted the gun to fire, swiped the heavy thing so his friend got in the way and knocked them both into the wall. He spun the door and swiped up at the third one’s shins so he went face first into the heavy wood, used the momentum to swing him up into the ceiling. He was laughing, he was pretty sure, but he was a bit too focused on the rush of adrenaline, of the physical effort it took to throw four men at least a match for him in size around a hallway with enough force to keep them on the ground and stop them being witnesses to Chestibor and Master Sorin being there.

“ _Red fire_ ,” Master Sorin snapped from inside the room. “That’s _disgusting_!” Chestibor dropped the door and shoved a hand through the last guy’s guts, dropped the body where it stood.

“Vhat?”

“He’s trying to make intelligent, already trained super soldiers by _melding brain matter together_ ,” Master Sorin said, and he looked pale, a little green, eyes wide with horror.

“Huh,” Chestibor said, considering that. “Dey vould schtill need der bodies, though?”

“Patchworks,” Master Sorin said shortly. “We can’t be caught here, they won’t let us leave. We need to go. Now.”

“Yaz, Master,” Chestibor said cheerfully, and scooped Master Sorin up again, as the sound of _even more_ guards rounded a corner. “Vun leetle gamut ov shootink muskets und guards comink op!”

* * *

Veli was in Master Sorin’s room when they managed to climb back in, leaving a trail of dead or otherwise silenced guards in their wake as they’d cut a swathe through a town on high alert. “Hyu iz _bleeding_ ,” he growled, eyes zeroing in on Master Sorin the moment Chestibor’s feet had touched down and he’d let Master Sorin go. He threw one of Chestibor’s shirts at Chestibor without looking, moved to steady Master Sorin as he swayed. Chestibor took the hint and immediately shucked off his soiled shirt, pulling the clean one on quickly and walking across the room casually as you please. No sudden run through town here, no siree.

“It’s a bit of musket shot,” Master Sorin was saying. “I can’t reach it, you’ll have to dig it out—“ Chestibor shut the door, leaned back against it with his arms crossed, whistling. The guards rounded the bend from the stairwell less than a minute later.

“You are under arrest,” the one with the fancy hat informed him, leveling a gun at Chestibor as he did.

Chestibor raised an eyebrow. “Eh? Me?”

“You were seen coming out of the Castle with Herr Petrescu—“

“ _Eh_?” Chestibor widened his eyes, reached up to scratch at the back of his head. “How deed _dot_ heppen, hy iz here all night!”

“You were _seen_ —“

“Und Meester Sorin iz aschleep in der room all night,” he added, over the guy, laying on the thick. “How iz ve in two plecez et vunce? Mebbe Meester Sorin knows, hrm.” He turned and opened the door, stuck his head into the room. Master Sorin was lying in bed, completely covered from neck to toes, apparently asleep. Veli was nowhere in sight.

“Meester Sorin,” he called, and Sorin opened his eyes, feigned just waking up—badly, but that didn’t matter, they couldn’t see him. “Dese guyz say ve iz et der kestle, bot ve iz here all night so—“

“They what?” Master Sorin said.

“Dey say ve iz et der kestle, bot—“

“I heard you,” Master Sorin said, and he stood up—he was back in a night shirt, which thankfully covered up any bandages that were likely underneath. “Let me talk to them. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but—“ He pushed back Chestibor and strode into the hall. He was… hrm, too pale, still, but that could be sleepiness, and he smelled of soap instead of sweat and musket-fire. And of blood, but probably that wouldn’t be obvious to a human. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, crossing his arms.

The first guard was puffing himself up, like he was more offended for being questioned than ready to fire for being disobeyed. “We were informed you were seen coming out of the castle earlier—“

“Someone broke into the castle?” Master Sorin asked, dropping his arms and widening his eyes. “Oh, is that what all the alarms are about?” God, he was so bad at this. Chestibor schooled his face so he wouldn’t start snickering, went back to the “dumb grandfatherly construct” act.

“ _You_ were seen breaking into the castle,” the guard insisted.

“That’s not possible,” Sorin said. “I’ve been here all night. Could it just be someone with our descriptions?”

The guard blinked. “We were told a young man matching your description and a large construct were—“ he paused.

“…A young man and a large construct,” Master Sorin repeated, face going flat. The guard was beginning to look uncomfortable. “I see. Did they give you _anything else to go on_? Why do they think it was us?”

Half an hour later, the guards had told Master Sorin all about what they knew of the break-in, Master Sorin had told them all about the bout of vomiting he’d been having earlier that had kept him in bed in graphic detail (and they’d taken three steps back and started breathing through their mouths, which was absolutely hilarious), and they were all clearly starting to wonder if any of their information was even correct. Chestibor could not have been happier. “…I suppose we don’t need you to come in tonight,” the lead guard was saying, eying the pale quality to Master Sorin’s skin tone with trepidation. “Maybe you… should just come by tomorrow. With this jaeger.”

“Oh, of course,” Master Sorin said, mildly. “I’ll absolutely be there. You have my promise.” Chestibor just bet.

“We’ll take our leave, then,” the guard said reluctantly, and tipped his hat. “Good night, sir.”

“Good night,” Master Sorin called, and waited until they were completely gone to sag against the door.

Half a second later, the window opened and Veli let himself back in. “Ve iz gettink dot schtoff out. Now,” he growled, and marched up to Master Sorin to turn him back towards the bed. “Chestibor.”

“Jah,” Chestibor said, and leaned back against the door as it closed again, whistling cheerfully.

Ten minutes later, the shouting brought a guard running again. A different guard. Chestibor gave him a long-suffering look. “Luff birds,” he said, mournfully. The guard left again with an embarrassed snicker.

* * *

“Vhy do hy keep puttink hyu on night duty,” Veli asked an hour later, as he let himself out of Master Sorin’s bedroom. He looked stressed. Well, Chestibor didn’t blame him, he’d just spent an hour digging musket shot out of the Heterodyne heir, probably with a pair of pliers.

“Becawz he vould go alone iffen hyu deedn’t,” Chestibor said, comfortably. “Und hyu know hy vill chust go. Neffer mind, though, deed he tell hyu about de patchvork tings?”

“Jah,” Veli said, and his expression turned a bit grim. The fun grim. “Ve iz gonna have vork to do, tomorrow.”

Chestibor grinned. Excellent.


	14. Tahir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Bosko, back when they're just on the road post-CW. Warning for implied PTSD. Tahir's not quite okay yet, but he will be. *pats him*

Tahir had placed himself prominently on his bunk (lower bunk, shoved into the corner so the head was along one wall and the side was along the wall with the door, leaving only the foot of the bunk exposed when someone came into the car), and had only been waiting about an hour when the Heterodyne heir came in, hair plastered and clothes damp from the rain and smelling like metal and smoke. Tahir let his eyes slide away, contemplated the bunk above him studiously, every inch of him purportedly relaxed (except his ears, of course, which he could feel were perked straight up—that was an obvious tell he’d never really gotten rid of). The trick with this type of thing, he’d found, was to be obviously present, but innocuous enough to be part of the scenery.

It didn’t quite work. Tahir’s new Master zeroed in on him almost immediately, face going from neutral to cautiously friendly. Damn. “Oh, Tahir,” Master Sorin said, giving him a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here. I just need to grab something—“

“Master, move or hy move hyu,” Dario complained from behind—wait, Dario? But Dario hadn’t been around all morning—and Master Sorin stumbled a little as Dario shoved his way in, thoroughly drenched with an expression that Tahir had last seen on a sopping wet alley cat in—oh, where was it? Zumzum?

“Hey,” Master Sorin said, and reached over to shove him back, a much more sincere grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Dario snorted dismissively at him and headed straight for his own bunk and the towel he had hanging off the back, leaving little puddles in his wake. “What did you even do, go for a swim?”

“Patrol,” Dario grumbled, and shoved his face into the towel, starting to squeeze water out of his fur—wait, patrol? Oh no, that meant more of the Guard was coming back—

On cue, Milosh sauntered through the door, equally drenched and clearly in much higher spirits about it, if the way his eyes were dancing were any indication. Uh oh. Tahir’s eyes slid inexorably to the pile of packs in the middle of the car, heart sinking. This was not going to plan.

…Well, nothing for it, now! Tahir would have to roll with it. He laid back again to contemplate the bunk.

“Veli put you on patrol in the _rain_ ,” Master Sorin was saying, grinning. “What did you do?”

“Notting,” Dario whined, and flopped dramatically onto his bunk with a squelch. “Hy only mebbe teased him a leedle about—ah, someting. Hy dun remember.”

“Verra convenient,” Milosh opined, as he rummaged through the bags to get a towel of his own (Master Sorin had stepped away to politely let the drenched jaegers go first. Tahir could not believe he was using the word “polite” to describe a Heterodyne, it was so weird).

“Veli iz gettink too optight,” Dario said superiorly from his puddle on the bunk. “He needs os to remind him dot he knows how to haff fon sometimes.”

“Hy iz doing just fine dere, hy think,” Captain Velimir said, only mildly damp where he was sticking his head through the door and grinning fit to be tied. “Hy iz having fun _right now_ , for example. Dario, hy think hyu bed iz dripping.”

Milosh snickered, and emerged from his pack with a towel and two apples. He shoved the first one in his mouth, tossed the other one to Tahir before whipping off his hat to towel dry his hair. Tahir caught it without really thinking about it, then shrugged and bit into it while Dario scowled in betrayal at Milosh. (Three years later, the aggressively feeding him thing was still weird. He wasn’t dying or anything, seriously…)

Milosh ignored the scowling, grabbed Master Sorin’s pack out of the pile and tossed it to him.

“Thanks,” Master Sorin said, and went to sit down on—on Tahir’s bunk, which was fair, since Dario’s looked a bit soggy. “Sorry, do you mind?” he asked, even as Tahir was moving his feet automatically to make room (he could still see Velimir through the door, in the space Master Sorin made between where he was sitting and the wall; he could fit through that, probably). “We sort of took over in here, sorry about that.”

Polite. God, why? Tahir snickered. “Hy dunno iffen hyu should be apologizing to me, Master,” he admitted.

“Oh?” Master Sorin said, one hand in his pack as he rummaged. “Why? What—“ He paused, slowly pulled something out of his pack with a raised eyebrow. “What—“ he said again, taking in the thin, oblong shape, the artfully carved edges, the switch at the end. Master Sorin stared dumbly for a second, and then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and his face turned the color of cherries, all at once. “Oh my _god_!”

Dario started cackling, curled up and rolled off the bed, landing with a wet thump on the metal floor. Milosh had a hand clapped over his mouth, face turning a bit purple with the effort not to join his brother in laughing at their lord and master. Master Sorin himself shoved the thing back into his pack, realized how that looked, and took the thing back out again just as quickly, so red it was painful looking, and then gave up, dropping it as he started laughing helplessly. “It’s not _mine_ ,” he insisted, covering his face with his hand and the pack. “I don’t know how it got in there!”

“Me tinks—tinks de lady protest—ahahaha—“ Dario gave up, going back to being a wet, matted, cackling ball on the floor. Master Sorin picked the dildo up just to throw it at him. Dario inhaled wrong and started coughing in between guffaws, picked it up and hugged it. “Iz dot a _proposishon_?” he crowed, still laughing.

Master Sorin’s eyes got, if possible, even wider. “ _Noooooooo_ ,” he said, covering his face again, still laughing himself. “Stoooop.”

“Iz hokay, Master,” Milosh said choked. “Ve… ve all haff, ah, _urges_ —“

“You’re all _fired_ ,” Master Sorin groaned, and Tahir stiffened up. The others paid that absolutely no mind, though, still openly laughing at their Heterodyne, except for Veli who was—

…Huh. Veli was glowing so hard his nostrils were lighting up his upper lip, just as brown as Master Sorin was red, eyes glued to the dildo Dario was currently clutching in helpless horror. Now, _that_ was interesting.

But it was time to end this, anyway. Master Sorin looked like he was actually going to _combust_ , and that was… not exactly what Tahir had been going for.

“Huh,” he said, innocent as a maid, still laying flat on his back with his knees up. “Hy tink iz _mine_! How did it get in _dere_?”

Master Sorin, magnificently, made a noise like a _dying cow_ , and then slid off the bed with a thump, joining Dario in laughing too hard to really talk. “Noooooo,” he said, again, gasping. “No, Tahir—I—did _not_ need to know that—oh _sweet lightning_ , help—“

“ _Tahir_ ,” Veli said, eyes still on the dildo. He looked torn between laughing and melting into an embarrassed puddle right there in front of the door—not really angry, then. Just very thrown. Huh _indeed_. “Hyu iz on patrol now. Congratulashons, hyu iz late to hyu shift. Move it.”

“Aww,” Master Sorin said, still bright red, looking up and turning his head just enough to see the Captain out of the corner of his eye. “It probably just fell in—“

“It did not,” Veli said, wryly.

Master Sorin blinked, and then turned to squint suspiciously at Tahir. Tahir blinked back, eyes as big as he could get them. “…What,” Master Sorin said, corners of his mouth twitching with still-present mirth. “Really?”

“Ve owe Nikias money now,” Milosh admitted. “He got de timink right for de first prank. Vos in-eh-veet-a-ble.”

“So leetle faith,” Tahir said, mournfully, and took another bite of apple. “Mebbe hy had changed mine vays! Cleaned op mine act in mine absence, found religion—“ Dario threw the dildo back at Tahir’s head. He caught it with a grin.

“I _see_ ,” Master Sorin said, and stood, planted his hands on his hips to _loom_ over Tahir. Tahir stiffened again, but—he didn’t look really angry, just still a bit embarrassed and trying not to start laughing again. “It’s to be _war_ then.” Tahir blinked, and suddenly couldn’t help grinning back. Oh _ho_ , was that a challenge?

“Oh god, no, don’t,” Velimir said, and finally put his head in his hands, a grin far too wide to be on purpose spreading across his face. “Hyu iz gonna lose so hard, boss. Hyu iz gonna end op on fire from embarrassment—“

“I must,” Master Sorin said, grandly. “The honor of the Heterodyne name is at stake—I can’t keep this up,” he admitted, dropping his arms and picking up his pack again. He grinned at Tahir, lop-sided, blush finally going down. “Watch yourself, though, you are going _down_.”

“Oh _ho_ ,” Tahir said, and waggled his eyebrows. Master Sorin turned bright red and sputtered again, as Dario and Milosh and this time even Veli erupted in laughter.

“Oh, you are _in for it_ ,” Master Sorin said, but he was grinning again, shaking his head at himself and the entire situation. “That’s it, I have to go _plan_. Veli, move, you’re blocking the door.”

He marched out, Veli obediently making room as he laughed, and Tahir—

—relaxed.

* * *

The next day, his spoon erupted in great plumes of billowing smoke the moment it touched down on Tahir’s breakfast, leaving everything it touched (including Tahir himself) a striking if uneven puce. Tahir grinned as the rest of the Guard fell over laughing, trying to avoid being colored themselves as the spoon continued to billow and slowly began to dissolve into the bowl. War it was, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about how Tahir ended up with PTSD, my excellent friend Mirrors has done me the honor of penning [this lovely snippet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5714809) for me. Please read the warnings. <3


	15. Dario and Milosh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should warn that this is... not exactly the same happy-go-lucky tone as the other fics in this mini series. Angst ahoy!
> 
> Special thanks to [k moss]() for coming up with the final "r" word for "raze, ransack, or rule." :DDD

“I can’t believe it’s been eight years since I’ve been here,” Master Sorin mused, squinting against the sun up at the huge gates of Vulkanburg. His mouth was twisted into a sort of squishy line, like he was maybe not sure if he wanted to smile or not. “It doesn’t really look like any time’s passed at all! The gates look exactly like I remember them.”

“Too big fur de vall?” Milosh suggested, eying the huge, iron monstrosities critically. There were way too many handholds on those things, it was ridiculous. Were they asking someone to scale them?

“…Unnecessarily large, yes,” Master Sorin said, and the tone he used—Milosh turned to look at him again. His face hadn’t changed at all, but that hadn’t sounded like a critique of the architecture.

“ _Hoy! Get a move-on, dis iz a town not a museum_!”

“Vell, hy bet dere veren’t jaegers manning dem beck den,” Dario pointed out, grinning. Master Sorin snorted, shoulders relaxing a little.

“Definitely not,” he agreed. “We’d better hurry up. You think Veli got here in time to let them know we’re coming?”

“Ve find out, hy guess,” Milosh said, philosophically.

“Great,” Master Sorin griped. “Just what I need, two _different_ groups recognizing me when I don’t want to be recognized by _anyone_.” 

Milosh blinked, and almost pointed out that if Master Sorin didn’t want to be recognized, going back to the town where he grew up was a bit counter-productive, but Master Sorin was already moving again. Milosh and Dario followed, exchanging a quick look behind their Master’s back as he marched off towards the gates, shoulders squared like he was planning to blow something up when he got there. They were beginning to think this wasn’t the best idea Master Sorin had ever had.

* * *

They had only been in the area because the Baron had sent them to check something out in Plovdiv—a Spark who’d gained prominence there when the old Viscountess in Vulkanburg had been, ah, _removed_. Apparently he was getting a bit too interested in how one would go about making a volcano farm. Master Sorin had decided it was mostly innocent, scared the living daylights out of the guy, and they had been back in the Caterpillar in under a week with orders to head way up north to Russia. (Dario had tried to get him to play raze, ransack, or rule when they’d gotten there, but Master Sorin had rolled his eyes and told him he wasn’t playing—and also rule, obviously, since it was a _Wulfenbach_ town; Dario had told him he was boring.) Veli had checked the map, and remarked that he might try to catch up with them in a day or so.

“Oh?” Master Sorin had asked. “Everything alright?”

“Hm? Ho, yez, nothing to vorry about,” Veli had assured him. “Iz just mine old mentor iz de Captain in Vulkanburg, und hy haven’t seen him in a vhile.”

“Oh!” Master Sorin had said, shoulders stiffening up. “You’re right, we _are_ near Vulkanburg, aren’t we?”

Twenty minutes later, he’d decided he might as well go and do some visiting of his own, although he didn’t actually say visiting _who_ or _what_. Actually, he said ‘ _visiting_ ’the same way he said ‘ _storm the lab_ ’, which was a bit weird in Dario’s opinion.

But Veli had just raised an eyebrow at Master Sorin, clearly surprised, and then shrugged and said “Hokay, iz up to hyu, boss.” He waited until Master Sorin left the room to rearrange the schedule so that Milosh, not Premisl, was the Guard on duty for the day Master Sorin would be in his old home town.

Dario had thought that was also kind of weird, so he’d decided to tag along. Considering Master Sorin was treating the whole experience like marching off to war, and not the fun kind, he was kind of getting the feeling Veli had been banking on that. It was looking a bit like Master Sorin might appreciate the back-up, and it was pretty likely Premisl wouldn’t notice what kind.

* * *

The gate opened onto the town from the South-East, sprawling out and down in curved roads and buildings towards the town center at the bottom, before rounding back up towards the north. Dario could make out the market from here, and also the Castle—big for the space it was in, and built right into the bowl of the caldera itself. “Huh,” he said, eyeing the stair pattern of roofs and the cobblestone streets.

“Cozy,” Milosh opined, waving idly at the jaegers on the wall (they’d taken one look at who exactly was walking through the gate and then immediately started pretending they couldn’t see anything at all, which was pretty funny).

Master Sorin snorted, shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked tense, subtly rounded around his middle like he was rhinohiding a blow to the gut. “It opens out a bit when you get closer to the bottom of the bowl,” he said, wryly. “This isn’t actually so bad, though. Everything’s right on top of each other in the north. The lava mazes are up there, too.”

Oh ho! “Ooh, _lava mazes_ ,” Dario said, grinning. _“Dot_ sounds like _fon_. Ve should go und see de lava mazes!”

“Heh.” Master Sorin started to smile a little. “Yeah, sure! I used to know them by heart, I wonder if anything’s changed.”

“Probably,” Milosh said, philosophically. “Iz lava.”

Master Sorin snorted. “That’s true. And there hasn’t exactly been a Spark to manage them… hm, I wonder if anyone’s been taking care of them. I should take a look a the borders and depth while I’m here.” He started walking down the hill, absently beginning to uncurl and look around a little as his brain wandered off into Smart Boy Land. “The whole town actually should _be_ under lava, see, and the fumes should be pretty toxic. It’s actually a really neat little redirection that the Viscountess did when she reclaimed the area—oh, hey!” He paused, squinting at a sign in the afternoon sun. “There’s actually a short-cut from here—there’s a tunnel down that way that cuts about halfway to the north face—“ He paused, thinking. “Well, at least there was last time I was here. I wonder if they closed the tunnels up? That’s where the Viscountess was working, so…”

“If it vos me, hy vould haff collapsed dem,” Milosh agreed.

“Blocked them off,” Master Sorin corrected, beginning to wander again. Dario followed, hands behind his head, cheerfully ignoring the looks the locals were starting to give them—not used to newcomers, clearly. “Actually _collapsing_ them would have taken the entire town down around your ears. It’s pretty extensive under the surface.”

“Eh,” Milosh said, vaguely. Master Sorin snorted, shot him a shadow of his usual exasperated grin.

“Look who I’m talking to,” he said, sardonically. “No collapsing tunnels, people _live_ here.”

“Ve vould neffer,” Dario vowed, widening his eyes and pulling his most hurt face, placing a hand over his heart. “Dis iz a Wulfenbach town!”

“Ah, yes,” Master Sorin said, rolling his eyes. “How could I forget that you care so deeply about what the Wulfenbach Empire would think.”

“So deeply,” Milosh assured him, gravely.

“Iz on mine mind _constantly_ ,” Dario elaborated.

“I’ll just bet,” Master Sorin agreed, wryly, and his mouth was doing the ‘pretending not to be amused at you’ thing now, eyes dancing. “Your past actions really pay credence to that claim, let me tell you.”

Dario grinned, took two or three steps so he could turn and walk backwards, facing Master Sorin. “So vhere iz dis tunnel, den?”

Aaaaand the little smile on Master Sorin’s face vanished, and he sighed. “I really should go and visit Master Iliescu first,” he muttered. “And Luca, too—old friend,” he clarified, when Dario blinked at him. “I keep promising—he’s got three kids now, can you believe it? Two boys and a girl.”

“…Huh,” Milosh said, non-commitally.

“Old boyfriend?” Dario guessed.

Master Sorin sputtered, flinging his hands out of his pockets to better fully express his denial. “ _No_ ,” he said, eyes wide. “How did you even get there from ‘he’s married with kids’?”

Dario started to grin, slowly. “Wow,” he drawled, narrowing his eyes consideringly. “Dot vos verra convincing. Hy iz convinced.”

“Hy tink dere iz a schtory dere,” Milosh agreed, crossing his arms and joining Dario in sizing their lord and master up.

“Oh god,” Master Sorin said, and turned on his heel to march away down the street. As if that ever worked, keeping up with him was their _job_. “No, seriously, you two, there’s nothing to tell, forget I said anything.”

“Hy tink de lady protest too moch,” Milosh opined, shoving his hands in his pockets as he easily kept up with Master Sorin’s much shorter stride. Dario quickened his steps to do the same, grinning at Master Sorin wide from the other side.

“De lady _definitely_ protest too moch,” he agreed, waggling his eyebrows. “So, old beau? Forbeedden romance? Alas, ve iz not to be, so sad, mine poor teenage heart vill neffer recover—“

“Do you listen when you speak,” Master Sorin asked, teeth gritted and face so red it looked like his ears were going to catch on fire. Score! “No, really, I am genuinely curious. Is there, say, a little hamster wheel in your head controlling a type face on automatic?”

“Hy dunno, mebbe,” Dario said easily.

“ _…is that…_ ”

“Ve iz chust curious,” Milosh said, nudging Master Sorin in the side. “Hyu haff never mentioned dis guy, iz all.” Master Sorin actually never mentioned Vulkanburg at all, to be frank. As far as Dario, and most of the Guard he guessed, were concerned, Master Sorin hadn’t existed before he’d walked through the doors of that outpost, short and mid-breakthrough and exhausted, fresh off his first accidental angering of a Spark he disagreed with and Veli starry-eyed behind him.

Dario honestly hadn’t even thought to ask.

“… _that can’t be_ …”

“You’re not just curious, you’re fishing for things to tease about,” Master Sorin griped.

“Dot too,” Milosh agreed.

“Go stick your head in a lava-powered cooling system,” Master Sorin suggested.

“Naw,” Milosh said. “Dot vos dumb lest time.”

“That has never stopped you before!”

“Haha,” Milosh said, grinning down at Master Sorin as he very slowly uncurled back into himself. “Hyu iz catty today.”

“… _that couldn’t possibly be the Petrescu boy_.”

Master Sorin froze mid-fired back word, eyes going wide and panicked, all the fire going right back out of him at once. Dario froze too, confused, looked around for the speaker, but they were in a bit of a bustling area of the street, and it could have been anyone. He narrowed his eyes at the passers-by, sending them scurrying off faster than they were going before. Shot Milosh a confused look.

Milosh’s mouth thinned, and he pulled off his hat, dropping it unceremoniously onto their Master’s head.

Master Sorin didn’t move for a minute, and then his shoulders slowly went back down, eyes turning towards the ground in front of him. He reached up and pulled the hat more firmly on. “Thanks,” he muttered, sounding a bit embarrassed. Maybe more than embarrassed. Milosh shrugged.

“Let’s get to Master Iliescu’s,” Master Sorin said, and started off again without a word. Milosh shot Dario a look that was about as suddenly concerned as Dario felt, and followed, equally silent.

Dario caught up, and didn’t say anything until they’d reached the bowl in the center of town. Clearly, there was a lot more to what Master Sorin hadn’t told them about Vulkanburg than he’d thought.

* * *

Master Sorin dragged his feet all the way to a forge just off the market, and then sort of squared up all at once and hailed the smiths inside with the air of a man about to jump off a cliff. Milosh stood next to him, idly scratching at his now uncovered hair as he surveyed the people inside.

Two men, and they both looked younger than Master Sorin, to be frank, which meant these were probably apprentices. Milosh kind of figured Master Sorin wasn’t trained by someone younger than him. He wondered, idly, if Master Sorin had trained with any of them. From the little frown Milosh could just make out under Milosh’s hat brim, he thought probably not.

“Hello,” the oldest guy was calling, holding a hammer above the anvil where he’d been working. “Give me just one minute, sir, this is a bit delicate.”

“Oh, no!” Master Sorin said, quickly. “Don’t mean to interrupt, I’m just looking for… Is Master Iliescu around?”

“He’s away, I’m afraid,” the man said. “He’s visiting his daughter. I’m his head apprentice. Is there something I could help with?”

Master Sorin blinked, and then his shoulders sort of relaxed a bit. “No, that’s fine, I’m just passing through,” he said quickly. “If you could just tell him Sorin stopped by and was sorry to have missed him, I’d appreciate it.”

“Wait,” the guy said. “Sorin _Petrescu_?” Master Sorin stiffened back up again. “Red _fire_ , I don’t believe it—oh, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Yoan, my parents were in talks with Master Iliescu just when you left.”

“…Oh!” Master Sorin said, voice a little choked, like he was uncomfortable and trying to hide it.  He tipped the hat up so he could see the other guy better. “No, I do remember you! Sorry—“

“Oh, no, it’s fine!” The guy put his hammer down. “It’s good to see you! I heard you broke through and had to train on Castle Wulfenbach with the Baron…?”

“Oh, the guy who went to work for the Baron as a Spark?” the other apprentice asked, suddenly perking up and looking interested—Milosh abruptly realized the guy had been eying him and Dario nervously. Pfff… “I heard about you. Master Iliescu said you were only a few years from journeyman when it happened. You keep your hand in?”

“Ah,” Master Sorin started. “Yes, actually, a bit. Most of my projects tend to sort of focus on smith work, really…”

“Ha! You should see if you can get reassigned here,” Yoan said, grinning. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a Spark, the whole town misses it.” Dario and Milosh exchanged a look. “Wow, working for the Baron, though! What’s that like?”

Master Sorin winced, subtly, and shrugged. “It’s pretty interesting,” he said. “I get to travel a lot, so it’s sort of like being on a journeyman working trip all the time. I’ve learned a lot.”

Yoan whistled. “Wow, I’d hate all that traveling! I guess that explains the jaegers, though, if you’re constantly on the road.” His eyes slid to Milosh and then away again, awkward. “We thought we were being inspected or something!” He laughed.

Master Sorin laughed too, short and awkward. “Yeah, it was nice of the Baron,” he said, vaguely, his usual response when people made assumptions about why a single Spark would need a squad of jaegers on the road. “Anyway, I should probably go,” he continued, “I’m only in town for the day, and I wanted to say hello to a few more people. It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too!” Yoan said, cheerfully friendly. “We’ll tell Master Iliescu that you stopped by.”

“Thanks,” Master Sorin said, smiling politely, and nodded at the other apprentice before saying goodbye and just barely not running away across the market. Milosh reached up to tip his hat, remembered he wasn’t wearing it, and rolled his eyes. Turned it into a wave as he went after his Master instead, Dario on his heels.

* * *

Master Sorin kept walking until he was clean out of the Market and three or four blocks up the north face of the caldera, tight and grim-faced and lost somewhere in his head. The crowds thinned out, and then got a bit more tightly packed again, until they came to a large building next to a fence with a sign that cheerfully declared it a hot spring, with a little arrow pointing to the front door of the building and some brightly painted prices. Master Sorin blinked at it, for a minute, blankly, and then sighed, leaned back against the building opposite the sign and put his head in his hands. “That’s new,” he mumbled, sullenly.

Dario shared another glance with Milosh, and then went to help Master Sorin hold up the wall, crossing his arms and eying the people coming out the front door to the hot spring facility with interest. “Huh,” he said, vaguely. “Thought it vas all natural hot springs here.”

“They must be piping the water up,” Master Sorin said, putting his hands down and staring sightlessly at the door too. “So I guess they’re using the tunnels after all. Well, good. This area always needed some commerce, it was pretty poor.”

“Vhere vos hyu family?” Milosh asked, leaning up against Master Sorin’s other side and looking down the street the other way, towards the market.

“Mm,” Master Sorin said. “Over on the west side, actually. So that we’d maximize the morning sun—“ His eyes widened, and next second he was darting away and down the alley between a building and the fence. Dario startled and put himself between where Master Sorin had been looking and where he was now on automatic, turned towards the door and saw a man about Master Sorin’s age coming out with a little girl on his shoulders.

He was blond, with a strong jaw and stronger shoulders, and a wide smile that revealed dimples as he looked up at the little blond girl he was carrying. What the—

The man turned and saw Dario, eyebrows raising up into his hairline almost immediately. “Uh,” he said. “Sorry, is there something—“

Dario blinked, and then gave the man his widest, dumbest grin. “Ho, sorry,” he said, and stepped out of the way—incidentally right into the mouth of the alley. “Hy vos arrested by der beauty hyu haff dere on hyu shoulders!” He whipped his hat off and bowed, to the little girl, who hid her face in—well, probably her father’s hair, giggling. The man smiled, indulgently, and nodded to Dario just a bit before walking on, not even bothering to look behind Dario. Dario waited until they were out of sight before whirling and facing Master Sorin, a ‘what the seven hells’ on the tip of his tongue.

Master Sorin wasn’t even looking out. Instead, he was staring at an old, well-cared for sign on the side of the fence proclaiming NO CONSTRUCTS in the same bright, cheery letters as the hot springs sign. He looked somewhere between impotently angry and exhausted.

“…Iz it chust me,” Milosh said, coming up behind Dario and taking in the view as well, “or do hyu really not like dis town.”

“I… _hate_ this town,” Master Sorin said, voice so tight it was shaking, fingers tapping against his tool belt in quick, jerky motions.

“Hy vould say ransack, et der verra least,” Dario agreed, trying for light. “Definitely not rule, no matter _vot_ dot smith guy seyz—“

“Raze,” Master Sorin interrupted, sharp and fast, like a whip crack.

 _Okay_ , Dario thought. _We’re done here_. “Hoy,” he said, coming up and putting a hand on Master Sorin’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Vhy dun ve go und look at dot lava maze now? Onless hyu schtill want to see hyu friend?”

“…Just saw him,” Master Sorin said, and his shoulders slumped, exhaustion apparently winning out. “Yeah, lava and quiet. That sounds great.”

“Hokay, ve go do dot, den,” Milosh said, and he squeezed around until he could take Master Sorin’s other shoulder, and they steered him firmly out of the alley and up the north face of the caldera, into less cramped spaces.

* * *

They stayed there until that night, when Veli finally wandered up looking for them. Master Sorin looked a bit calmer for the time away, showing them the twists and turns of the maze and checking the new flows and lava levels with a sure eye. It was a lot easier for Milosh to see his Heterodyne as a child _here_ , surrounded by heat and stone and base materials, than it had been anywhere else in the town.

“Hoy,” Veli called. “Hy vas looking for hyu three.” His eyes alighted on Milosh’s hat, still on Master Sorin’s head, and then shot to Milosh. Milosh twisted his mouth into a thin line. Veli grimaced and looked away again.

“Needed some fresh air,” Master Sorin said, not looking up from a reading. Veli’s frown deepened, but didn’t say anything about the huge, jagged walls and broken ceilings of the maze they were standing in, the smell of molten rock that covered everything.

“Hyu ready to go?” he asked instead.

Master Sorin smiled, a dark and jagged thing that didn’t meet his eyes and slashed sharp across his face, like the lava maze. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”


	16. Velimir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I have a lot of people to thank for this!
> 
> First, thank you to [lilithqueen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithqueen/pseuds/lilithqueen/works) for use of Dana. (Her fic is archived here on ao3, and I highly recommend it!)  
> Thank you to [kmoss](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kmoss/pseuds/kmoss) for use of Mikhail, [Codeless](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Codeless) for use of Cosmina (Mina), [Mirrors](http://archiveofourown.org/users/twobrokenmirrors) for use of Mirrors, and [asphodelimago](http://asphodelimago.tumblr.com) on tumblr for use of Iancu. (Go see some of their work at [jaegerketadventures](http://jaegerketadventures.tumblr.com) on tumblr!)  
> Thanks to [klausdancing](http://klausdancing.tumblr.com) on tumblr for the name suggestion for Abel and Acher. (He also writes fic, and I believe it's all at least linked on his tumblr? Take a look!)  
> Thank you to the lovely [Asuka Kureru](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/pseuds/Asuka%20Kureru) for continuing to let me play with her characters and also not dumping me as a friend while I whined my way through this. You're awesome, darling!
> 
> This is it, guys! Last chapter is the character sheets for all sixteen of the jaegers, in case you're interested. Thanks for sticking with me, and I apologize in advance for how long it is going to take me to write the multichapter that follows this, hahaha orz

There was a new Heterodyne claimant.

A girl, Mistress Tereza’s message had said. A very polite young woman named Agatha, found right under Beetle’s nose—or perhaps under the Baron’s nose, it wasn’t entirely clear. She didn’t seem to know who she was, or at the very least didn’t want to tell a group of relative strangers, and her guardians were nowhere to be found, but the Generals were _sure_ , and that was good enough for the Heterodyne Regent.

Good enough for Sorin, too. He’d read the notice over until he’d probably memorized it, drinking in the information like a a dying man offered water in a desert, and ever since he’d had this… spring in his step, eyes bright, back straight, just a little wider of a grin. It looked like hope.

Veli had never thought he’d be so happy to hear someone might be planning to challenge the Heterodyne heir for succession. Not because Sorin would be a bad Lord Heterodyne—he wouldn’t, even if he’d hate every minute of it—but because Sorin had never, ever wanted to rule. Not for a second. Veli didn’t even care about who this woman was, beyond the fact that she was a Heterodyne and she might take the one thing about being a Heterodyne that Sorin still dreaded onto her own shoulders. If she met Sorin’s standards, anyway; if she was smart and strong enough to rule and had a clear enough moral compass that Sorin would be willing to trust what was his with her. Maybe, maybe. (If she wasn’t what Sorin was hoping for…) They’d see.

He’d read the letter himself, when Sorin was finished with it, and done his usual comment-in-the-margins form of report to Mistress Tereza on Sorin’s reply. The letter went off without incident less than a day after it had arrived.

The second letter came far too quickly to be a response.

“Well that’s not good,” Sorin said conversationally, shutting the door and eying the letter with some trepidation. “Think we’re in trouble?”

“Vere ve supposed to be showing up at someting hyu didn’t vant to go to again?” Veli asked from his sprawl on the couch. They were in the sitting room off Sorin’s assigned rooms in Lord Malwock’s castle—a huge stone monstrosity that held the entirety of the town, enclosing it in Sparkily-modified stone walls and insulating it against the often-unpredictable weather of the Russian tundra.

“I don’t think so,” Sorin replied, and broke the seal on the letter, leaned forward until he was leaning on the back of the couch to read.

Veli actually saw the moment he went from bemused trepidation to shock. Sorin blinked, and the shock had become anger. He straightened up and shoved the letter at Veli, marched over to the desk in the corner of the room.

“Gather everyone up and get us out of here,” he said, voice shaking. “As subtly as possible, we don’t know whether there’re orders to keep us here.”

“Vat happened,” Velimir said, even as he was standing and heading towards the door.

“In the letter,” Sorin answered, and then the door was closing behind Veli and he was reaching out to haul Chestibor along with him down the hall.

“Ve iz leaving,” he said, perfunctorily. “Go und schtart getting de Caterpillar ready, tell whoever hyu see on de vay and get dem back here to help pack.”

“Jah, Keptain,” Chestibor said.

“Keep it on de down-low,” Veli added, looking down at the letter and starting to skim it as he walked (and there used to be a time when he vigorously denied even being able to read; now he read in hallways and nobody even commented, it was a travesty). Chestibor snorted—yeah, stupid order, but Veli had to at least _try_ , it was his _job_ —and then he took the left fork in the hall and Chestibor took the right. Veli kept jogging down to the main gates. Sorin would see to making sure there was an excuse sent to the right people, but someone needed to make sure the doors would be open. Or make them open. Either/or.

He stopped dead in the middle of the hallway when he realized what he was reading.

_Sorin,_

_I am sorry about this, but I need you to Leave Lord Malwock’s domain immediately, and then stay well away from the Baron’s sway for as long as you can. There has been an Incident._

_The other Heterodyne claimant—Agatha—turns out to be Bill Heterodyne’s Daughter. From what I understand, upon hearing this, the Baron ordered all jaegers out of the room and Agatha gassed. She managed to get away (without me being informed of any of the events until well after the fact), but was pursued and has just recently been declared Deceased._

_She is not. The Jaegergenerals have seen the body and Confirmed this. I have sent a general order out to the Detached Jaegers to find her and bring her to Mechanicsburg, but I have no doubt the Baron will Quickly realize his mistake and again begin pursuit. You must be Well Away before he attempts anything foolish like instating you in Mechanicsburg under the assumption you will be His Heterodyne._

_Be safe, Sorin. Do what needs must._

_Your loving mother,_

_Tereza Petrescu_

_Well_ , he thought, _rake me over hot coals in the Flesh Yards_. Suddenly, the shock and anger made perfect sense.

Veli crumpled the letter up, lit it on fire on a passing torch and let it burn down to the very tips of his fingers as he walked before dropping the ashes into a corner. They’d want to leave by the West gate, he thought. That would get them to a road heading South the fastest, and there was no way they weren’t heading South. If the wild jaegers were bringing Agatha Heterodyne to Mechanicsburg, then Sorin would head there first before starting sweeps to find her.

And he would find her, too. He always did.

“Hoy, de Gate,” Veli called, and stepped out into the covered Courtyard, waved at the guards stationed there. Old Manu was on duty today again—old and gray and sagging, but still with that set to his shoulders and jaw that said he could throw a sizable wrench into your plans if you messed with him in the wrong way—and a new guy Veli didn’t know. Didn’t matter, though, because Manu was the one he needed to convince.

Manu, naturally, had started shaking his head no the moment he’d realized exactly which jaeger was weaving through the crowds towards him.

“Tell yer Mister Sorin no,” he said, perfunctorily.

“Awwww, hyu iz breakink mine heart,” Veli said, pressing a hand over his heart dramatically as he kept walking up. “Hyu dun even know vat hy iz going to ask yet!”

“No, the Gates erren’t coming open,” Manu clarified, crossing his arms. “You’ll just have to tell yer Spark he’s going to have to sit on ‘tever brain wave he’s riding straight into hell until after the storm’s passed, I’m not gon explain to the Master why I let his little student out in en ice storm so’s he could get his fool self and his men popsicled.”

Veli pouted. “Bot dere izn’t an ice storm _now_ ,” he pointed out, crossing his arms right back at the old boulder. “Und ve vill go _very very fast_. Ve iz gonna be ready to leave in under an hour, Manu, come on.”

“No one leaves into an ice storm,” Manu said firmly, and leaned against the lever that would open the gates. “I don’t care how fast yer Mister Sorin _thinks_ he is, he erren’t gonna outrun an ice storm down from the mountains. Ye’ll all be froze solid before you even make a road, and I’ll be the one sent to ice pick yer corpses out of the scenery. No.”

…Yeah, no way in hell. After that time the lava engine went out three years ago in the middle of a blizzard, Sorin had insulated the Caterpillar to within an inch of its life, _and_ done something to the lava to make it “cold burning,” or whatever he’d called it. Make it burn when it got cold. Which made no sense to Veli, but then again Sorin’s ancestor had once managed to set fire to a water tap, so. Sparks. Anyway, between that and the fact that the transport could superheat its own sides, the worst they’d have to worry about was water on the windshield. That wouldn’t help, though, so Veli didn’t say it.

The castle was big, but not so big that fifteen jaegers couldn’t be rounded up and packed in fifteen minutes at most, and Sorin had gotten good at packing the Caterpillar in a hurry. They were looking at no more than _half_ an hour until the Caterpillar appeared in the Courtyard.

Veli liked Manu—he reminded him of Sarge Drazhan a little; something about the suspicious squint and the upward quirk to his mouth that said he was usually on the edge of laughing at your stupidity—but if the man wouldn’t move, Veli was going to have to move him.

Manu was solid, but he was not exactly young anymore, and it paid to be trusted—underestimated—sometimes. Veli would have the element of surprise, could grab him and check him over his shoulder into the bored underling guard over there before either of them had a chance to react… “Awwww, come on,” he whined, stalling for time. “Hyu dun even know vat Meester Sorin vants out dere. Maybe iz a… ice storm shield!” The lever wouldn’t be hard to move—it looked pretty hefty, but he’d lifted considerably more just helping Sorin with the Caterpillar. He’d need to be out the gates himself well before the Caterpillar if he wanted a ride, though…

“We have one’a those,” Manu drawled. “It’s called a ‘castle’.”

…Okay, so that one was dumb. Nobody had ever accused Velimir of being a Spark, after all, coming up with crazy inventions involving ice storms on the fly wasn’t really his forte.

Well, not like breaking out of a castle was, anyway.

Not yet, though. Not until the Caterpillar was here. Wait.

“Vat if hy said please,” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at Manu fatuously. Manu snorted. “Vat if hy offered hyu…” he checked his pockets. “…dis…thing hy took from Meester Sorin earlier! Iz a gear attached to a thing dat… iz… hrm.”

“Ye missed yer calling as a salesman,” Manu informed him, and he was definitely laughing now. Veli let himself smile, a little grimly, under the shadow of his hat.

The Caterpillar still wasn’t here.

“Come on, Manu,” he said. “Just open de Gate for five minutes.”

“And what’re you going to do when we erren’t open when the storm hits,” Manu said, not unkindly. “I like you, Velimir, but I told you before. Ye’re nuts if ye think I’m gon let you walk on outta here against protocol. It’s fer yer own good.”

Down the hall, people started to shout.

_“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”_

_“Slow down in the corridors, moron!”_

_“Where did you learn to steer!”_

_“Bite me, asshole!”_

“What in the—“ Manu said, turning to look beyond Veli down the avenue. Veli felt his grin widen of its own accord.

“Vell,” he said, bringing Manu’s attention back to him—still looking down at the gear thing. He threw it up into the air, caught it on the way down. “Hy think ve haff a problem den, Manu.” Then he tossed the little mechanical piece at him—Manu caught it—and followed with his fist.

Manu staggered, eyes wide in shock. Veli didn’t hesitate, slammed into Manu with his shoulder and flipped him up and over into the other guard—the guy shouted, pain and surprise. Bystanders started to scatter, shouting. Veli turned to the lever and slammed it home, grinned in triumph as he heard the gears creak and the huge, wooden gates begin to open. Cold air blasted through the opening—windy, but no ice yet. Veli put his weight on one leg and took aim with the other hoof to snap the lever off in the open position.

“ _No you don’t_ ,” Manu snarled, which was the only warning Veli got before the lightning stick jammed into his knee and his nerves short-circuited. His leg gave out—ack!—and then Manu was slamming into him from behind, locking both Velimir’s arms behind him. Veli sighed, got his legs under him, and flipped them both onto the lever, back-first.

The lever snapped under the strain of two bodies. So did Veli’s shoulders, right out of their sockets. He gritted his teeth and threw his head back into Manu’s forehead. Manu grunted, hold loosened on Veli’s arms enough for Veli to roll off him and out of the way. Argh, this was going to be awkward—and there was the Caterpillar, thundering through the Courtyard and past all the screaming people, Sorin’s jaw set on “concede or get out of the way.” Veli grinned, and took a fist to the face for his momentary distraction.

“Velimir,” Manu growled, nose broken and bleeding, panting hard.

“Sorry, Manu, iz nothing personal,” Veli told him, and shoved his back against the lever so he could kick up and out into the man’s stomach. Manu oophed and stumbled back, gave Veli enough room to prop his arm up on the broken lever and put his body weight into shoving the joint back into place. Ow—okay, one arm would do. He took off running for the Gates.

“Stop them!” the younger guard shouted—too little to late, kid, and really what had he been _doing_ for the last few minutes? Veli rolled his eyes, bounced forward enough to _leap_ onto the back of the Caterpillar, grabbing onto it with his working arm— _ack,_ hot! He hissed, shoved with his legs hard enough to propel him up, grabbed the top and pulled himself onto the roof with mostly his torn shoulder muscles. Ow, ow, damn and blast and _hellfire_ —there. He waved at the running guards still just barely pouring out of the Gates, then reached over and snapped his other shoulder back into his socket while he was at it.

They’d destroyed any chance they had at keeping their escape a secret, of course, but the ice storm would, weirdly, cover their tracks a lot better than anything else could. Particularly if Lord Malwock’s people were all scrambling to get the huge, heavy gates closed to protect the rest of the castle before the storm hit instead of chasing them! Manu would see that was the best course of action and call the guards back in just as soon as he got his breath back, Veli was sure. He was good at his job.

Velimir turned and bounced his way over the curved roofs of the Caterpillar cars, reached down and knocked on the passenger side door of the engine cabin. Sorin cursed, reached over and shoved the door open for him. Veli slid into the seat and slammed the door shut behind him. He could feel the too-wide grin still on his face.

“Ice storm comink,” he said, sounding much more gleeful than he’d initially planned.

Sorin grunted, reached behind him and pulled the divider down. “Rada,” he called.

“Jah, Master.”

“Tell Bosko to find the jaeger who delivered that message and get them back here before the storm hits. We’re headed for the road.”

Rada snorted. “Und here hy thought ve vos goink to de _moon_ ,” she said pointedly, but then the door separating the cars opened and closed, and she was gone.

Sorin immediately started side-eying Veli, eyes all squinty and suspicious. Veli tried his best to look perfectly healthy and uninjured. He flashed Sorin is most charming smile.

“…You have a black eye,” Sorin said wryly. “And blood on your teeth. You are fooling nobody.”

Veli laughed, reached up to swipe at the blood he could taste on his lips. His shoulder protested, but already less than it had been doing before. “Damn, foiled.”

“Anything I should know about,” Sorin asked, pointedly.

“Naw,” Veli said. “Hy’ll go again if hyu vant. Dat vas fun!”

Sorin’s shoulders lost some of their tension. He looked back at the road, rolling his eyes expansively, like that would somehow disguise the fact they’d gone a little soft. Veli was still grinning, looked out at the ground in front of them so it wouldn’t be pointing directly at Sorin’s face and blind him.

“So vat now, boss,” he asked, settling into the wooden seat and trying to find a good position for his shoulders— _ow_ , shit, okay not doing that again for a half hour or so…

Sorin’s eyes narrowed—the determined face, again, serious and sure. “Now, we get to the road and pick up Bosko and whoever he’s managed to find,” he declared. “I don’t want to make any real navigation plans until everyone’s back. The end goal is finding Agatha, though, obviously.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Veli teased. “Hyu excited to meet her?”

“Oh, stop, you jerk,” Sorin said, rolling his eyes even as his cheeks pinked up a little. “We’re trying to find her to _help_ her, not just because I want to meet her. She could be scared! _I_ would be scared…”

Sorin’s face was falling, concern and anger slipping in at the corners of his eyes and mouth again, shoulders beginning to tense. _Shit_ , Veli thought. _No_. No. This wasn’t fair. Sorin had been so happy about this just this morning, excited and smiling and—

Velimir had no idea what Klaus Wulfenbach thought he was doing, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to take away the hope Veli had seen blossoming in Sorin’s eyes since he’d found out he may not have to give his whole self to duty. He nudged Sorin, took the squint—hey, I’m driving—as his due. “Hoy, she _iz_ a Heterodyne,” he said, letting his voice go a little quieter. “She vill be fine until ve get to her.” Sorin grunted, looking back at the uneven terrain. Nothing but frozen earth and the few types of plants that managed to survive here for miles. “Really,” Veli insisted. “Heterodynes iz like dat. Very self-sufficient, as long as dey iz not doing someting purposely schtupid.” He reached out and poked Sorin in the head pointedly, ignoring his shoulder twinging. Sorin dodged, swatted his hand away.

“Hey! Seriously, Veli, I’m driving!”

“Hyu know hy iz right,” Veli said. “Hy mean, think ov de Heterodynes hyu know. Iz hyu, hyu momma, und hyu sister, und let me just say, iz not a coincidence hyu all ken take care of hyuselves. She vill be fine until ve get there.”

Sorin sighed, and nodded. “Well, Mother and Ludy are fine, anyway. They’re scarier than I am.”

“Hyu iz plenty skary,” Veli assured him, poking him again. 

“Hey! Stop!” Sorin ducked again, eyes still on the road, corners of his mouth suddenly pinched like his mouth was curling up of its own accord. Veli relaxed, grinned back. “Fine, fine, you’re right, she’ll be fine. We’ll still have to find her as soon as possible, though.”

“Mm,” Veli said. “Ov cawze.”

Sorin fell silent again, mouth quirked like he couldn’t decide whether to frown or smile. Veli considered a second, and then decided to poke again. Metaphorically. “But ennyvay, hyu _do_ also just vant to meet her, jah?”

Sorin rolled his eyes, cheeks pinking up a bit again. “So what if I do?” he complained. “She _is_ my cousin, right? And I’m… curious, I guess.”

“Ho?”

“Mm. I wonder what she’s like. Is she nice? Is she… scary like Mother and Ludy? Does she like clankwork? Does she like _medicine_?”

“Oh, no, medicine,” Veli drawled. “De horror.”

Sorin reached over and punched him in the shoulder without looking away from the ground outside. Veli hissed, completely by accident. Oops.

Sorin stiffened up like a board, head snapping to look at Veli, all sharp eyes and intent. “You’re hurt,” he said, voice tight.

“Iz nothing,” Veli tried. “Just needs some time—“

“You said you were okay!”

“Hy iz.” Veli rolled his shoulders carefully. “Iz already lots better, boss, dey just popped out, notting to do but vait—“

“ _Oh my god_ , Veli,” Sorin snapped, and started to stop the Caterpillar. “ _How many times_ —all of you! And you’re not even staying still, what is wrong with you?”

“Hy need _fifteen minutes_ und den it vill be _fine_ ,” Veli snapped back. “Ve dun haff time for hyu to fuss over mine shoulders vhen—“

“That’s not your call!”

“Hyu _bet_ iz mine call—“

And that was when one of the little brown hills rose up out of the ground and roared at them, opening a hole in the underside to reveal huge, mossy stalactite teeth. Sorin immediately hit the throttle again, cursing for all he was worth. Veli kicked the door open and swung up onto the roof without another word.

The hill was about three times as tall as the Caterpillar, but Sorin was barreling toward it fast enough Veli could bounce up and use the forward momentum to make the top, probably. He jumped as the hill opened two huge muddy brown eyes and roared again, and a huge, grass-covered protrusion like an oblong piece of hill grew out of the side and took a swipe at the Caterpillar like an annoyed bear. For a second Veli was _flying_ forward, and then he reached out and grabbed two handfuls of perfectly normal-feeling dirt, slammed into the hill like he would have if he’d bounced off the Caterpillar and ended up landing face-first on the ground instead of a flesh-and-blood enemy.

Oof.

Okay, it was really a hill.

He shook his head, and then started dragging himself handful after handful to the top of the hill. The hill roared again, turned away from the Caterpillar to take a swipe at him instead. He let go with one arm to dodge.

Behind him, the Caterpillar’s engine revved.

“DUN RAM IT,” he shouted. “IZ AN ACTUAL HILL.”

“ _Are you kidding me_ ,” Sorin shouted back, and swerved just before he’d slammed their transport into a hillside. Veli turned back to his current predicament.

Okay, so it was a hill. It had a mouth and eyes, so theoretically it had internal organs under the dirt and grass and things, too. The trick was going to be getting to them.

There was a whoop, and Veli looked down to see Nikias flinging himself off the Caterpillar as Sorin executed another sharp turn, flying sword-first at one of the eyes, cackling. He impacted point first, and the hill _roared_ , swatting him off like he was an annoying bug. He landed cackling, rolled to his feet.

“ _Too deep in for dot, ve need a longer reach_ ,” he called.

“Hy get de odder eye,” Veli shouted back, and let himself roll back down the hill again, dodging to the side when the hill swiped and grabbing the ridge that was the thing’s eyelid, letting his shoulders take the weight. All the muscles in his upper back went up like fire. He grinned into the hill’s eye and then swung both his hooves straight into the eyeball.

It squelched. The hill roared again, and Veli was flying off just like Nikias had, but in the other direction. He landed, rolled to his feet, ignored the gel and blood coating his pant legs from knee to hoof. He could feel a grin stretching wide across his face as he took a running leap at the thing’s side.

From the other side of the hill, something exploded. The hill rocked backwards and roared again.

“ _HaHA_! Didn’t like _dot_ did hyu!”

“Yaro, get hyu fat head out of mine _shot_!”

Oh, hey, Sorin’d unfolded the cannons for Amo and Yaro. That worked!

Then there was a blast of wind that went straight through Veli’s clothes and down into his bones, and something sharp and wet plinked onto his hat.

“ _Here comes de ice storm_ ,” he bellowed, and then began clawing his way up the hill’s… back, he supposed. Another blast sent the hill careening off in another direction, nearly sending him flying off again. Zbignev landed next to him with an _oof_.

“Ve gotta anchor it,” Veli said, without preamble. “So de cannons can get it.”

Nikias slid down from the top, clearly coming down from the other side.

“De cannons iz chust blowing off chunks ov dirt,” he reported.

“Ve could stab it in de mouth?”

“Mebbe Master Sorin could ram it in de mouth.”

“Mebbe ve _don’t_ encourage him to _drive into de mouth ov a sentient cliff dat iz attacking him_ ,” Veli suggested, wryly. “How about ve get Andrej to do it!”

“Ve dunno how deep it iz in, ennyvay,” Nikias added.

“So ve shoot it in de mouth?”

“ _Stani, get out of its mouth_ ,” Sorin’s shout echoed, and then there was a blast of wind and the sound of stone shattering, and Stani cackling over the storm rolling in and the thing _roaring_ and rattling around, and the three of them had to brace themselves and hold on or be flung off. Premisl went by clinging to one of the thing’s arms, kicking at the dirt clot over and over again. He’d made some progress—it looked like a good hit from the cannons would have it flying off. Up above them, Blazh crested the hill with Sorin’s harpoon gun and pointed it straight down into the hill before pulling the trigger.

It thunked very satisfyingly into the dirt, but the electricity just made it roar again and fling itself back and forth, sending Blazh flying around on the top like a bright red, chained-on, cheering flag.

Veli was clearly missing the fight. He gritted his teeth and began clawing his way up the hill to see what was going on.

The ice started falling in earnest.

There, at the top. He waited until he was being flung in the right direction, leapt up and caught Blazh on the fall. They landed and bounced halfway down the hill, coming to a stop with their claws dug into the dirt.

There was an arc of hot, bright light above them, and the ground they’d just been on exploded, showering them with melted burning dirt.

“ _Vatch vhere hyu iz aiming_ ,” Blazh bellowed at Amo, who made a rude gesture as the Caterpillar swung back around and Yaro took aim. Veli looked around and noticed the whole hill was covered in holes, many of them still oozing from the lava cannons. Underneath, the now toothless-hill was clawing at its mouth, and Rada was swinging feet-first in with a gleaming grin.

A second later, the thing roared, and both Rada and Stani shot out of the mouth, covered in what was probably muddy saliva and whooping.

“Completely normal in dere!” Rada shouted. “Hy ponched it in de tonsils und it schtopped tryink to svallow Stani!”

“ _Why would you give a carnivorous hill tonsils_ ,” Sorin shouted back. “No, never mind, I don’t care! Someone take the wheel, I have an idea!”

“Tahir!” Veli shouted, before there could be an argument about it. Sorin was already vanishing through the divider into the engine room, someone who was fast on the sprint needed to take it. “Efferyvun else, grab onto de base und hold on! Ve need to anchor it!”

The Caterpillar swung around as Tahir made the cabin, tail whipping out behind it, shining in the lava light like a beacon. Yaro swung the cannon around and shot into a hole that had already been made in the hillside.

The hill _roared_ , or maybe screamed, that time, and swiped at an area of the ground where Lyubo, Premisl, and Andrej were standing. They all went _flying_ , disappearing into the swirling ice as the wind picked up even more and the sky grew so dark that only the lava reflecting off the ice offered any light at all. Dario, Stani, and Rada all lunged at the arm, dragging it back to the ground as Amo shot a blast of lava at the ‘shoulder’ to take it off. Milosh and Chestibor lunged at the base of the hill—did it even have feet? how was it moving—and dug in, and the next blast of ice showed Zbignev and Nikias sliding down to join them. Veli slid down, too, dug his hooves into the earth and his claws into the hill as the thing _heaved_ , and a blast of lava showed Dario, Stani, and Rada all lifting up the dirt limb to _shatter_ it on the hillside.

Veli’s shoulders _wrenched_ , and the right one popped back out of its socket. He bit down on the yelp of pain, let go with that hand and dug his hooves in more securely.

“ _Master, if hyu could mebbe hurry op dot vould be great_ ,” Amo shouted, and shot at the mouth again.

“ _Haul me up_ ,” Sorin shouted. “ _And someone get its mouth open_!”

“ _Ve got it_ ,” shouted a voice Veli didn’t recognize immediately from the storm, and then Bosko was landing on the roof of the Caterpillar and bracing Sorin as he leveled a _truly huge_ gun at the hill, and two blurs materialized out of the dark and went straight for the mouth, shouting a battle cry. There was a _thud_ , and then the hill _roared_ —one of them had stabbed it in the _tongue_ with a sword—and then the other one was shoving something vertically into its mouth—a lance—and then they both lunged out of the way and Sorin _fired_.

The gun sent Sorin careening into Bosko, who in turn went careening into the cannon and had to be braced by Yaro. The truly epic stream of lava went shooting into the hill’s mouth. It shuddered, and the ground Veli was holding heated up like an _oven_ —he jumped away—and then the damn thing _collapsed_ in on itself like it was being burned from the inside out. Sorin was shouting at everyone to get inside and Veli _bounced_ for one of the doors as lava began leaking out of the holes as the monster melted, and then the door slammed shut behind him and the howling wind cut off and Veli’s knees buckled a little at the sudden heat curling into all of his limbs at once.

The Caterpillar spun and zoomed off—presumably away from the dead hill.

Three thunks and a blast of cold air later, Premisl, Lyubo, and a clearly limping Andrej stumbled in and dropped into the pile of jaegermonster currently on the floor with Veli.

Silence reigned for a moment.

“…Vell,” Lyubo said finally. “Never ponched a _hill_ before.” Veli laughed. A bunch of others did too, and then there was cheering and jostling as everyone pulled themselves to their feet and took stock—Veli popped his shoulder back in again, and ignored when the world whited out for a second because of it. There was the familiar _lurch_ of the Caterpillar stopping and anchoring, and a second later a blast of air as the door opened and shut and there was Sorin, bright red from cold and trailed by Bosko and two other jaegers Veli had to think for a second to identify. Abel and Acher. The Twins. Cavalry. Detached.

“Oh, here ve go,” Rada groaned from the corner.

“Yeah, suffer,” Sorin said, but he was grinning. “Everyone spread out to the other cars. We’re staying put for a while and I don’t want the doors to keep opening, and there are currently… nine of you crammed in here. Who’s hurt?”

“Landed veird on mine knee,” Andrej grunted, from where he was propped up against the wall in a loose slump. “Und broke some ribs hy tink.”

“Hy should probably bandage mine shoulder,” Veli admitted.

“…Hy might be bleeding,” Stani added, speculatively as she eyed her shirt. “Hy dunno if iz mine or from breaking its mouth a bit.”

“…Right,” Sorin said, and sighed. “Okay, injured stay here, everyone else disperse. Don’t open the doors more than you have to! Stani, come over here and let me see—oh! Wait!” The twins had started getting up to leave. They froze at Sorin’s call, turned back around. “You two stay too,” he said. “Abel, right? You’re limping.”

“Eh?” Abel said, bristles in his hair and around his face rustling in surprise. “Hy iz fine, Master, iz chust a—“

“Dun bother,” Stani told him, as Sorin stood on his toes to get the med kit that was in every car and the others shoved and bickered their way into the cars on either side of the one they were in. “He does dis. He iz a mother hen.”

“I’ll mother hen _you_ ,” Sorin said, very maturely.

“Vell, yaz,” Stani said. “Vat iz hyu doing now?”

“You’re bleeding!”

“Cluck cluck cluck—“ Veli turned away to hide a grin, raised an eyebrow at the twins. Abel tentatively sat down on one of the bunks, elbowed Acher in the side as he did. Acher dropped down next to him with a grunt, elbowed him back (which was probably a lot more uncomfortable, coming from Acher, since _his_ spines were poking out of the arms and legs of his uniform—must have poked through during the battle). They were both looking at Sorin like they were unsure what his game was. Pff…

“ _Anyway_ ,” Sorin said, as he glared a snickering Stani into obediently lifting her shirt so he could take a look at her torso—just high enough for Sorin to get to the wound, and yup, definitely _her_ blood. Sorin grimaced at it, pulled out some bandages and the vodka. “Well, the good news is there’s probably no saliva in it with the way this is bleeding.”

“Iz already closink op.”

“Humor me. How’s your breathing, Andrej?”

Andrej shrugged. “Eh.”

“Great, thanks,” Sorin sniped, and looked over at the twins like they’d commiserate with him. “I’m surrounded by comedians,” he said, and rolled his eyes.

“Hyu chust tink dat becawz hyu iz only exposed to _poor comedy_ ,” Acher threw, and then blinked like he couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

“Hoy!” Veli said, mock-offended.

“Jah, ve iz great comedians,” Stani agreed, equally fake-huffy, as Sorin tied off the now-sterilized bandage and pulled her shirt back down. “Vot, hyu tink hyu ken do better?”

“…Ov cawze,” Abel answered, starting to grin. “Ve haff lots ov time to vork on notting but de comedy act.”

“Ve annoy each odder so moch ve haff to knock each odder out to schot op,” Acher added, haughtily.

“Oh my god,” Sorin said, now prodding at Andrej’s knee, mouth pinched and voice shaking with repressed laughter. “What. That doesn’t even make sense!”

The door opened just a second, sending a _blast_ of cold wet air that showered everyone in ice, and Tahir squished his way through the really tiny opening and slammed the door shut again, giving himself a shake to get rid of the ice that had matted into his fur in the brief moment he’d been outside.

“ _Brrr_.”

“Hoy, Tahir!” Acher said, grinning. “Hy deedn’t know hyu vos on de Honor Guard now!”

“Hyu look like a frosted cake,” Abel added, speculatively.

Tahir turned to them and grinned, struck a pose. “Jah,” he agreed, “a deelicous green frosted cake. Line op, brodders, plenty to go around!”

Andrej, blank-faced, reached over and covered Sorin’s ears. The car erupted in guffaws.

“Vot iz hyu two doink dis far north,” Tahir asked, once everyone had settled down and Sorin had bullied Andrej into removing his shirt so he could get his ribs wrapped. “Last hy heard hyu two vos headed vest.”

“Efferyvun vos called in by de Regent,” Acher explained, shoulders loose as he leaned idly against his brother’s side. “So ve vos headed beck vhen ve ron into Dana who vos on de letter chain to…” He paused, eyes sliding over to Sorin.

“To me, yes,” Sorin finished for him, a wry smile on his face. “I swear I don’t bite, and this is what I wanted to ask you two anyway. Go ahead.”

“Hy iz sort of sorprized Dana gave op a chance to deliver a letter to de Heterodyne heir, even vit… hyu know. Russia,” Tahir admitted, jack rabbit ears twitching a little. “Vot did hyu say to get her to do _dot_?”

“She hed her horse vit her. Leetle too obvious, even if it vos fast. Ve—vell.” Abel shrugged, tugging on his hat a little, eyes falling. “Our mounts deedn’t mek it. Hyu know…”

Veli’s eyes cut to Sorin, who was mid-wrap and looking at the twins with wide, sharp eyes. “You two were cavalry?”

“Jah, seexth light cavalry regiment,” Abel said, shrugging. “Vos our fault, ve should haff left dem even ven… ven Mistress Tereza say ve ken bring dem.” He shook himself, continued. “Ennyvay, better for dis. Vos supposed to be a schneaky ting!”

“Plus, she really _didn’t_ vant to come to Russia—too cold,” Acher added, leaning back into his brother a little. “Und ve bribed her vit promise dot ve tell her vot hyu look like, too, Master. She draws, she vants to mek hyu portrait, und Abel iz goot at details becawz he does de map schtoff, so.”

“So here you are,” Sorin said, and shot a smile at them. “She can draw me if she wants, I guess? I mean…” He shrugged.

“Haha, goot! Hy iz not goink to die den,” Abel said, cheerfully. “Now hy chust haff to try to remember how to draw a person inschtead ov a ge-oh-log-ee-cal rep-ree-sehn-tay-shon ov en area.”

“You should talk to Zbignev,” Sorin suggested. “He’s the one who does the ‘this is who or what you’re looking for’ drawings around here usually. I don’t know if they’re great, and I think he prefers knitting to drawing, but… I like them? Anyway he might be able to help you get the details she would want.” He turned back to Andrej and inspected his work. “Alright, Andrej, I think you’re done. How’s your range of motion?”

“Iz fine, Master.”

“Hmm… sit still for a bit for me.” He rounded on Veli. “Now. You.” Veli grinned back at him completely unrepentantly, waggling his fingers at him.

“Hyu hear about enny ov de odders,” Tahir asked, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms.

“Ho, jah! Jenka iz de vun vot came to find os during de recall—she und Maxim und Oggie und Dimo vos out near de passes into de Mechanicsburg valley, bot de old cavalry und runners vos who got sent to get de rest ov os, so…”

“Your shoulders are bruised to hell and back,” Sorin muttered, kneeling down next to Veli as he carefully pulled off his jacket and unlaced his shirt to let Sorin get a good look at his upper back. Veli shrugged his slightly less-painful shoulder.

“Eh. Just bind op de right vun. De left didn’t come back out again.”

Sorin stared at him, and then sighed. “I swear, sometimes I think you guys like getting injured worse than you have to.”

“Depends on de sit-u-a-shon,” Veli teased, waggling his eyebrows fatuously. Sorin punched him (in the left arm, d’aww).

“…dis beeg rat vit a vhip tail. _Crack!_ Schplat!”

“Goot eatink, though! Und it kept until mine jaw healed, too, so it vas fine…”

“So iz hyu going to let dem keep gossiping,” Veli asked, as Sorin prodded at the shoulder he’d just punched with a serious expression, carefully easing around the parts that were really painful.

“Shh, let them talk for a bit,” Sorin said, quietly. “I’ll get around to interrogating them when they’ve relaxed some.”

“Cluck cluck cluck.”

“Shhh!”

“…und den she say ‘hyu should probably both go befur mine brodder come home.”

“Hoo boy, bet _dot_ vas a goot time!”

“Eh, vas hokay, he vas only a leedle concerning becawz ov der shotgun…”

“Also, I am gaining useful info about my troops,” Sorin murmured, handing Veli the vodka. Veli snickered.

“…finally jumped into de sack,” Acher was saying, leaning forward and grinning wide enough it looked like the top of his head might fall clean off—probably the different colored green patches on his face made it look wider. Abel’s were more around his eyes than Acher’s, gave him a more shady look than his twin’s.

“Vell, _dot_ only took two centuries,” Tahir teased.

Stani snorted. “Vos all Mikhail’s fault. Mina chust haz goot taste.”

“…Iz ve talkink about de same Mina? Hy mean—“

“Schot hyu mouth befur hyu shove hyu foot enny deeper into it, Acher.”

“Ho, dun get me wrong, she iz skary as all get-out! She chust likes de boyz, iz all! Und de girls. …Und de—“

“This is Mina, Mikhail, Iancu, and Mirrors, right?” Sorin asked.

“…Uh, jah!” Abel leaned forward. “Hyu guys ran into dem?”

“Mm,” Sorin said, pressing on Veli’s arm so it’d bend and he could bind it in place on his chest. “Yeah. I fixed her goggles, actually. That was… hrm, two years ago?”

“Three, hy think,” Veli suggested. “Vos not too long after ve run into Berthold.” And Sorin had started seeking out all the detached jaegers in the area, just to check up on them. It had been kind of cute.

“Right,” Sorin said. “And Mina sat on Mirrors while she talked me through piecing Iancu’s clavicle back together and pretended she wasn’t straightening up and making guilty faces every time Rada bellowed.”

“Oh, _really_ ,” Acher said, and turned so he was leaning towards Sorin, hands on his knees in interest. “Mina vos _cringing_?”

“Und Mikhail, a leedle,” Tahir filled in. “Iz Rada, as in, Sergeant Radovana. Dey served onder her vhen dey vos first changed.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, long jack rabbit ears flicking a little in emphasis. “Vos so cute, Rada vent all soft on dem. Only shouted fur…tventy meenutes, hy tink? Und mostly et Mina. Ve tink Rada vos _vooorried_.”

“Awwww,” Abel crooned, grinning. “De bonds made on hyu first sqvad…”

Sorin snorted, checked his work one more time. “Okay, you’re done,” he told Veli. “Sit still for an hour and don’t move, or I will tie you to a chair. Abel, how’s your leg?”

Abel blinked. “…Oh! Iz fine, hy told you. Vos chust a ripped muscle from runnink here too fast ven ve see de hill-ting.”

“Mm,” Sorin said. “Remind me to make you another lance, by the way. You didn’t grab it before it melted, and I don’t want you going out again without a weapon. How is your leg _right now_?”

Abel blinked, clearly caught off-guard. “Ah,” he said, eyes suddenly a little brighter. Acher leaned back and into him again, bracing. “Iz… fine, Master. All healed?”

“Then my evil plan of keeping you talking to make you stay seated worked,” Sorin said, and stood up. Veli clucked at him under his breath. Sorin kicked him without looking, and then…

It was pretty subtle these days, when Sorin went from Sorin Petrescu, the blacksmith and Spark that worried too much and blushed too easily, to Sorin Heterodyne, the guy who could take over Mechanicsburg one day (maybe not now, maybe maybe…). Something about the way he carried himself, the way you could almost see the harmonics that threaded through his voice swirling around him like a cloak. “Now, Mother recalled you because she sent the detached jaegers after Agatha, after the Baron brought back the wrong corpse,” he said, and the twins went still. They all did, eyes, snapping to Sorin like magnets to steel. “You’re going to tell me what in Hell’s breath is going on back home. Anything you know.”

Silence reigned for a minute, and then Acher leaned forward again, propping his elbows on his knees, quills folded flat to keep from stabbing his own thighs and hat brim shadowing his eyes a little. “Ve dun know moch more den dot,” he said, more serious than he’d sounded the entire time the twins had been in the car. “Ve know dot Mistress Tereza sent out a descreeption ov her, und said she iz Miz Lucrezia und Master Villiam’s daughter, und dot de Baron tried to knock her out und keep her on Castle Wulfenbach ven he find dot out. She vent South ov Castle Wulfenbach, und de air balloon vent down, und den de corpse dey found vos… vit a Circus, hy tink?”

“Jah, a Circus,” Abel confirmed. “So efferyvun knows to look for a Circus for informashon, und if ve find her ve iz to bring her schtraight to Mechanicsburg. Hy guess dey iz tinking Mamma vill help?”

“Or der von Mekkhans,” Acher added. “Hy mean, iz not like de Kestle ken do ennyting, so…”

Sorin nodded, slowly, eyes flickering to Veli again. Veli raised an eyebrow back. Not much more there than in the letter, drat.

“I’m headed down to try to find her,” Sorin told them. “I’m going to Mechanicsburg first, and was planning to start doing sweeps out from there, but it’d be good if I had a little more information about what her path to the town is going to be.”

“Ve run into Dana befur ve could get too close,” Abel admitted, “und den ve run all de vay here. Ve didn’t hear enny rumors on de vay, so at least she iz probably not beink hunted by de Baron again yet.”

“Mm,” Sorin said, and crossed his arms, eyes unfocusing a little as he thought. “…Do you think,” he said slowly, “that you two could get me more information? I need someone who can do some looking while I sneak down to Mechanicsburg and dig in.”

“Ho!” Abel grinned. “Jah! Ve ken do dot!”

“Dunno if ve iz gonna be fast enough,” Acher said. Abel elbowed him. “Oof! Hoy! Iz true! Ve iz on foot!”

“Dot doezn’t matter—“

“Demn right it _matters_ , vot, iz hyu gon grow _vings_ und _fly_ beck to here?”

“I can fix that,” Sorin said, cutting the twins off like a scratched record.

“…Hyu ken get os horses?” Acher asked, and his eyes shone.

“Not real ones,” Sorin admitted. “At least not yet, and not here. But if what you need is a mount…” His eyes sharpened, and he grinned. “How do you feel about a mechanical one?”

* * *

The twins were back less than a week after they left, as the Caterpillar was approaching the Carpathians, with a crazy story about a projection of Agatha Heterodyne accusing Klaus Wulfenbach of being the Other. Sorin stared at them mutely for a whole ten seconds.

Ten seconds after that he was mid-fugue on how to attach a drill to the front of the Caterpillar to create a tunnel through the looming mountain without compromising the integrity of the vehicle. Veli had expected nothing less.


	17. The Honor Guard

Zbignev

DnD ALIGNMENT: neutral

DAEMON: black bear

AtLA: earth kingdom non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: hufflepuff or slytherin. He’s pretty steady and loyal, but at the same time it takes some wiles to get in the middle of all those interpersonal situations and diffuse them :X more puff though I think

DRAGON TYPE: guardian

CLASSPECT: Sylph of Space

HEIGHT: 5’8.5”

WEIGHT: 190 lbs

BODY TYPE: sturdy build, broad shoulders

HAIR COLOR: gray (shade lighter than the rest of him—Zbignev is essentially in grayscale)

EYE COLOR: gray (shade darker than his skin)

SKIN COLOR: gray (#7F7F7F)

FACE SHAPE: square

HAIRSTYLE: short, bristly, would have terrible hat hair if he ever took his hat off; stubble on his chin

CLOTHING STYLE: black uniform jacket with blue buttons and silver adornment, often undone over sturdy white uniform shirt. matching black pants, black leather belt with silver buckle, black knife shieth, black boots (boot knife); hat: shako with silver adornments and blue feather

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: bristly; fights hand to hand; squashed nose; ashen three-wheel device; Veli’s XO (corporal, promoted to first lieutenant post-Shock Hazard); cis man

 

Blazh

DnD ALIGNMENT: chaotic evil

DAEMON: cobra

AtLA: fire nation non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin (so Slytherin wow)

DRAGON TYPE: coatl

CLASSPECT: Rogue of Light

HEIGHT: 5’7”

WEIGHT: 175 lbs

BODY TYPE: whip skinny

HAIR COLOR: brown hair

EYE COLOR: yellow eyes

SKIN COLOR: red scales

FACE SHAPE: oval, but cheeks are puffy, so it makes it rounder

HAIRSTYLE: short, spikey

CLOTHING STYLE: flashy; wears lots of red accents, maybe a black, gray, or blue uniform (he dresses sharp); hat: top hat with a feather

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: round, snakey nose, puffy cheeks (like venomous snake); ring in both ears; great poker face; fights hand to hand; cis man

 

Lyubo

DnD ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral

DAEMON: husky

AtLA: air temple non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

DRAGON TYPE: spiral

CLASSPECT: Page of Life

HEIGHT: 6’10”

WEIGHT: 190 lbs (modified because further research indicates he'd probably be dead ahaha. He's underweight for his height, though)

BODY TYPE: runner build, but noticeably too skinny (his metabolism is a liiiiittle crazy)

HAIR COLOR: poison green

EYE COLOR: poison green (shade lighter than hair)

SKIN COLOR: dark gray skin with slight green tinge—a little reflective (think iridescent in FR)

FACE SHAPE: broad, flat face, wide nose, no real cheekbones, wide mouth

HAIRSTYLE: just too short to be curly, so sticks up everywhere instead

CLOTHING STYLE: dark green uniform pants/jacket with brass buttons and dark red embellishments, dark red shirt (if he’s running a message he can close the jacket and the red is not that noticeable; sturdy black boots; hat: reddish-brown fur felt round hat

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: chatterbox, constantly eating; one earring in left ear; cis man

 

Premisl

DnD ALIGNMENT: neutral evil

DAEMON: wolverine

AtLA: bah sing se non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

DRAGON TYPE: mirror

CLASSPECT: Heir of Breath

HEIGHT: 5’9”

WEIGHT: 180 lbs

BODY TYPE: slightly more heavyset

HAIR COLOR: blond

EYE COLOR: dark orange

SKIN COLOR: jaeger green

FACE SHAPE: heart-shaped

HAIRSTYLE: about three inches and shaggy

CLOTHING STYLE: brown uniform, dark red shirt, gold accents (masks the blood)

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: headstrong and tends to come up with kinda crazy plans; cis man

 

Stanislava (Stani)

DnD ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral

DAEMON: eurasian lynx

AtLA: southern water tribe, non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: god I think she’s another ‘puff. Because she’s not ambitious enough for slytherin and she’s not noble enough for gryffindor and she’s not bookish/creative enough for ravenclaw

DRAGON TYPE: mirror

CLASSPECT: Maid of Heart

HEIGHT: tall. About 6’

WEIGHT: 155 lbs

BODY TYPE: slender

HAIR COLOR: nearly blue-black

EYE COLOR: lighter shade of green

SKIN COLOR: jaeger green

FACE SHAPE: thinner face, pointy chin

HAIRSTYLE: long braid

CLOTHING STYLE: practical navy blue uniform and boots; hat: 

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/ec/65/89/ec65898e32a4933ea90d16c7c1e1546d.jpg

Except it doesn’t say “Kantonnier” on it and the pin is obviously the appropriate army’s.

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: fights with a mace; blunt and friendly, gets down to business; down for almost anything, a bit of a risk taker (will it kill me? How badly? …Eh. YOLO!), cis woman

 

Chestibor

DnD ALIGNMENT: lawful evil

DAEMON: Hippopotamus

AtLA: earthbender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

DRAGON TYPE: snapper

CLASSPECT: Heir of Space

HEIGHT: 6’3”

WEIGHT: 350 lbs.

BODY TYPE: Built like an American footballer – looks heavy until you realize that’s weight over 300 lbs of muscle

HAIR COLOR: white

EYE COLOR: black (can’t see pupil)

SKIN COLOR: emerald green

FACE SHAPE: round

HAIRSTYLE: bald, white beard

CLOTHING STYLE: black uniform with white embellishments and gold buttons; hat: British bobby

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: Really dark/gross sense of humor that nobody picks up on because he looks like he’s gonna give you a cookie and pat you on the head; fights hand to hand; loyal to a fault: will go with Sorin to do the stupidest things imaginable and then lie his ass off about it to protect Sorin; cis man

 

Bozidar (Bosko)

DnD ALIGNMENT: neutral evil

DAEMON: Serbian tricolor hound

AtLA: from a small town in the Earth Kingdom; non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

DRAGON TYPE: guardian

CLASSPECT: Seer of Doom

HEIGHT: 5’8.5”

WEIGHT: 175 lbs

BODY TYPE: husky

HAIR COLOR: gray-blue

EYE COLOR: white

SKIN COLOR: black (as in, the color black, not the skin tone typically sported by some natives or descendants of the African continent)

FACE SHAPE: square

HAIRSTYLE: short

CLOTHING STYLE: navy blue uniform, hat: navy kepi cap

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: Bat ears; fights hand to hand; their tracker; cis man

 

Andrej

DnD ALIGNMENT: lawful evil

DAEMON: bull

AtLA: earth kingdom, non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Gryffindor

DRAGON TYPE: mirror

CLASSPECT: Knight of Rage

HEIGHT: 6’

WEIGHT: 180 lbs

BODY TYPE: long and reedy, delicate-looking hands and fingers

HAIR COLOR: fire engine red

EYE COLOR: fire engine red (same color as hair)

SKIN COLOR: beigey skin with a slight blue-gray tinge (like he was drowned)

FACE SHAPE: rectangular

HAIRSTYLE: high and tight

CLOTHING STYLE: standard gray infantry uniform with silver accents; hat: gray, circular hat with a long, wide brim that covers a good half his face and shields his eyes

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: quiet, kind of introverted for a jaeger, actually follows orders (!!!) but a fucking crazy thing on a battlefield (lotta rage 9.9); Snappy’s Favorite (he isn’t mean to him and he is very predictable and practical!); often gets night duty; fights hand to hand; cis man

 

Radovana (Rada) Nikolayev

DnD ALIGNMENT: neutral evil

DAEMON: hyena

AtLA: fire nation non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

DRAGON TYPE: snapper

CLASSPECT: Witch of Rage

HEIGHT: about 5’3”

WEIGHT: 150 lbs

BODY TYPE: short and squat—small breasts, wide hips (pear-shaped, essentially)

HAIR COLOR: mouse brown

EYE COLOR: purple

SKIN COLOR: bright pink

FACE SHAPE: round

HAIRSTYLE: serviceable bun

CLOTHING STYLE: loose, serviceable clothing—red shirt, black uniform jacket with gold buttons, braiding, epaulettes, white accents; red sash; black pants and knee-high black leather boots; hat:  

http://www.johnnyg.westhost.com/cwr391-1800-mil-hat-fr-s.JPG

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: flatter nose that has been broken before, anglerfish teeth, skin phosphoresces; smokes cigars; nose stud; “yeah sure go ahead and hit me—what, that’s it? Wow, son, this is embarrassing for everyone *lays him out*”; sergeant; gets a lot of the more “chaotic” newer jaegers to whip into shape. A good number of them are under the impression her name is actually some variation of “Sarge”; Random poll suggests she is scary as fuck; fights hand to hand; cis woman

 

Yaroslav (Yaro)

DnD ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral

DAEMON: ferret, probably

AtLA: southern water tribe, bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff? He works really, really hard; you don’t get good at trick shots with an 18th century musket overnight

DRAGON TYPE: spiral

CLASSPECT: Page of Blood

HEIGHT: 5’6”

WEIGHT: 135 lbs

BODY TYPE: thin, small breasts, wide hips

HAIR COLOR: bright orange

EYE COLOR: bright orange

SKIN COLOR: blue-gray

FACE SHAPE: heart-shaped; wide nose and mouth (the better to see his orange tongue and shark teeth)

HAIRSTYLE: probably a crew cut, tbh. High and tight

CLOTHING STYLE: turdy leather with straps to keep it close to his skin and create EVEN MORE POCKETS (all the better to have lots of ammo in. And mask his body shap a bit, but that was less of a consideration after he became a jaeger); hat:  

<https://p2.liveauctioneers.com/368/21890/7552783_1_l.jpg>

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: likes trick shots (HOY BET HY KEN HIT DOT GUY HANGINK UPSIDE DOWN ON DE TRELLIS BEHIND MINE BACK *shoots* NAILED EET!), very excitable; trans man

 

Amator (Amo)

DnD ALIGNMENT: chaotic evil

DAEMON: raven

AtLA: southern tribe waterbender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw, weirdly enough. He… actually really likes trajectory and angles. Don’t say anything, though, he’ll be insulted.

DRAGON TYPE: nocturne

CLASSPECT: Prince of Mind

HEIGHT: 5’9”

WEIGHT: 180 lbs

BODY TYPE: muscular arms, back, and core (it’s pretty hard to string a crossbow, actually)

HAIR COLOR: black hair

EYE COLOR: amber eagle eyes

SKIN COLOR: jaeger-green

FACE SHAPE: long face, square jaw

HAIRSTYLE: about an inch long all around and curly; has a full beard

CLOTHING STYLE: he spends a lot of time scrambling, so his clothing is loose and practical. Usually just sturdy black pants, sturdy gray uniform shirt, black crossbow harness crossing his chest with a trilobite on it, black ammo pouch with brass clasp; hat: black bicorn with gold braid

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: fights with a crossbow; likes to wind people up (and is very, very good at it); everyone wonders why nobody’s killed him yet for pissing off the wrong person (the reason is he’s funny and he’s good at his job); tends to heckle opponents; cis man

 

Nikias

DnD ALIGNMENT: chaotic evil

DAEMON: jackal

AtLA: firebender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin

DRAGON TYPE: imperial

CLASSPECT: Mage of Mind

HEIGHT: 6’2”

WEIGHT: 175 lbs

BODY TYPE: built, but with more of a swimmer’s build. Broad shoulders from swordplay

HAIR COLOR: auburn

EYE COLOR: very, very blue

SKIN COLOR: ruddy orange skin—at first glance maybe just tan but nope orange

FACE SHAPE: thin, weak chin, high cheekbones

HAIRSTYLE: short tail, a bit of a goatee to hide his weak chin

CLOTHING STYLE: loose shirt and jacket to allow for ease of movement (both blue; jacket is darker than the shirt), gold braiding. Navy blue pants, brown belt with gold buckle and sword-sheath; hat: cocked hat, blue with thick gold braiding

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: strategist, knack for predicting the chaos and getting in the middle of it; competitive; fourth son of a noble, ran away when Scandal made his parents decide to send him to the clergy; rapier-style flamberge sword; cis man

 

Tahir

DnD ALIGNMENT: neutral

DAEMON: hare (big surprise, considering XDDD)

AtLA: airbender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

DRAGON TYPE: tundra

CLASSPECT: Knight of Hope

HEIGHT: 5’11”

WEIGHT: 165 lbs

BODY TYPE: long and springy; runner’s build

HAIR COLOR: lime green fur

EYE COLOR: red eyes

SKIN COLOR: evergreen hair

FACE SHAPE: diamond-shaped face with high cheekbones

HAIRSTYLE: a bit longer, so it just barely brushes the back of his jacket collar

CLOTHING STYLE: serviceable blue and green uniform jacket with lots of pockets and gold braiding. Green uniform pants, light blue shirt, brown vest, no shoes. hat: blue and brown busby

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: jack rabbit feet and ears (when he’s relaxed and happy his ears flop); itty bitty horns; prankster and filthy sense of humor (double entendres, sex toy in your pack wow how did that get there; someone accidentally says something that could be taken sexually and he giggles); runner; former wild jaeger, so he’s watchful and a tad more cautious than the average jaeger; gets twitchy these days if too much is going on, prone to disappearing (and usually using the time to prank the shit out of everyone else); Can read! Arabic. Very useful in Romania :X

 

Asuka’s Jaegers

 

Dario

DnD ALIGNMENT: chaotic evil

DAEMON: weasel

AtLA: fire nation, non-bender

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Gryffindor

DRAGON TYPE: Tundra

CLASSPECT: thief of light

HEIGHT: (idk smaller than veli)

WEIGHT: (idk not big)

BODY TYPE:  slender, narrow shoulders

HAIR COLOR: bright red fur

EYE COLOR: blue eyes (I think?)

SKIN COLOR: not visible! (but also red.) 

FACE SHAPE: long oval, very large eyes.

HAIRSTYLE: a red, wavy bush, barely longer than the rest of his fur.

CLOTHING STYLE: dark blue with gold buttons.

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: ram horns, asshole smirk; fights hand to hand; cis man, Milosh's heterosexual life partner.

 

Milosh

DnD ALIGNMENT: lawful evil

DAEMON: mountain goat

AtLA: Earthbender, some tiny village from the sticks

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

DRAGON TYPE: Guardian

CLASSPECT: Bard of  Void

HEIGHT: veli is chest high on him

WEIGHT: (huge muscles)

BODY TYPE:  A gigantic wall of a man.

HAIR COLOR: very dark blue, looks black

EYE COLOR: gray eyes

SKIN COLOR: dark, dull blue (not sky or greenish blue),

FACE SHAPE: strong jaw.

HAIRSTYLE: short and bristly.

CLOTHING STYLE: dark red with gold buttons.

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: fights hand to hand; cis man, Dario's heterosexual life partner and straight man.

 

Velimir (Veli) Ardel

DnD ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral (i will do good… i will do bad… and i will have fun either way woooo! trending more to lawful than chaotic because while he can do chaos, he does appreciate the structure and orders given by the army and his masters.)

DAEMON: Fox! 

AtLA: (i could see him being an airbender if those had assassins…) Waterbender! SOUTHERN TRIBE BABY. here, hale ice all up in your business. cheers! he’s also good at going with the flow.

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin. no, wait, Hufflepuff. he’s tricky but he just wants to stay with his friends and lay waste to europa for another couple of centuries come on buddies ;_; also he took the jaegerdraught to become a war monster, which seems to point to reckless gryffindor, but it was really to be able to serve his beloved masters for the next centuries, so.

DRAGON TYPE: Mirror 

CLASSPECT:… Maid of Time come ON veli in aradia’s outfit, with that same little hehe jerksmile when someone runs right into his trap. also lol he’s immortal lol. >_> yeah ok sold. 

HEIGHT:  1.70 m? Should be, but when his legs are held straight he's about 1.95.

WEIGHT: slender for his size, because of the legs.

BODY TYPE:  Medium large; goat legs usually held some level of bent, long floppy ears. Muscled tight, not bulky.

HAIR COLOR: pale sea foam green

EYE COLOR: "banal" brown

SKIN COLOR: classic jaeger green

FACE SHAPE: lozenge, high cheekbones, sharp nose bridge.

HAIRSTYLE: overgrown crew cut, bristly

CLOTHING STYLE: dark blue, red cloth belt.

OTHER DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: glowing mouth, eyelids, etc; leathery scales on bridge of nose; oversized, clawed hands.

http://asukaskerian.tumblr.com/post/93902532500/quick-sorin-velimir-ref-for-nu%C3%A9e-ardente-my

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Inductance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714809) by [TwoBrokenMirrors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBrokenMirrors/pseuds/TwoBrokenMirrors)




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